


The Littlest Musketeer

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2339717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those of you that don't know I usually write in the sci fi genre of Stargate SG-1. The main writing group I'm in is called Little Danny where we downsize Daniel Jackson's character (as well as other members). Usually his caretaker is Colonel Jack O'Neill. I also will at times mix it up with characters from SGA. Jackson portrays an archaeologist/linguist/diplomat on the show and I've done a story in the past called the Littlest Archaeologist. Hence where I got my idea for this story.<br/>I do hope you enjoy it and see my note at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Believe

Off in the woods far, far away from Paris stood a lone little cottage where an older but still lovely, wise woman lived. Some of the villagers called her healer, others said she was crazy, while still more whispered to each other one word... witch.

On this day, the anniversary of Alexandre d’Artagnan’s death, his young son d’Artagnan stopped to rest on his way back to Paris. He had just come from a short visit with friends he had left behind in Gascony where he went to visit his mother and father’s grave sites. It was a year ago that he lost and avenged his father’s murder. After his father had passed away in his arms d’Artagnan had made arrangements with the innkeeper to have his father’s body transported back to Lupiac to be buried. With everything that had happened this past year d’Artagnan hadn’t had time to visit and pay his respects.

Sitting underneath the shade of a large tree, d’Artagnan let Zad roam around freely in the field. Closing his eyes he remembered life growing up on the farm. Yes, it could be grueling, back breaking work at times, but with both his parents around life had been good.

A tear slipped down his cheek as d’Artagnan, lulled by the birds soft twittering and the warm, gentle breeze, drifted off to sleep. Being in the land of nod he had no idea that he acquired company along the way.

The woman from the tiny cottage felt his distress from clear over in her safe haven where she lived. Feeling it so keenly she had to go in search of the youngster. Martinique was surprised to say the least when she discovered it was a Musketeer as she studied the boy’s pauldron. “So young,” she murmured to herself. “What dragons did you slay to earn your prize and yet still be only a child?” But soldier or not, the young man’s pain was real as Martinique listened to the stranger call out for his father.

“Pe’re, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. It should have been me,” d’Artagnan mumbled. “I miss you terribly.”

Martinique understood loss all to well, she was as alone as the boy. But her light touch on the youngster’s brow jolted her. In her mind’s eye she saw him with cherished friends. Martinique could make out features of a handsome, devil maycare older man. Then a huge dark skinned one that always seemed to be laughing. Finally the last impression that stayed with her the longest was of a somber face that held great love in his heart for this child who slept in her forest.

“So you miss your father and this other gentleman looks upon you as a son,” she whispered softly as she brushed the hair out of the boy’s eyes while he slept on. “Perhaps I can do something for you both,” Martinique smiled. “If only for a short while.”

++++

*Next morning - Treville’s office*

“Uh, sir,” Rene poked his head inside the office to catch his captain’s attention. “There’s a woman outside who wishes to speak with you.”

Wondering what complaint against his Musketeers his poor ears had to listen to this time, Treville put down his paper work. “Send her in,” he responded bruskly. His breath caught in his throat as she walked in. The woman was beautiful in a quiet way, nearer his own age if he guessed correctly. Standing up he walked around his desk to meet her. “What can I do for you, Madame?” Treville addressed her thus because of the child in her arms. A handsome lad of about six years of age he judged. The boy had the most adorable cherub features and his heart literally melted at the youngster’s feet right there and then.

“It’s mademoiselle, Captain,” Martinique corrected as she let her gaze drop to her small charge. “He does not belong to me.”

Treville wondered at the strange way the boy stared at him with bright, curious eyes. He started to actually feel slightly uncomfortable under the little one’s unwavering gaze.

“And it’s not what you can do for me,” she smiled, “it’s what we can do for you,” Martinique graced him with a delicate laugh, jiggling the little one in her arms. “Or should I say what d’Artagnan can do for Athos and he for the boy.”

“Que diable!”

“Oh the devil had nothing to do with this, Captain.”

“If this is a stunt being played on me by my men I don’t find it in the least amusing!” Treville snapped.

“It’s really me, sir,” little d’Artagnan chirped, showing off an engaging grin.

“Look closely at him, Captain,” Martinique urged. “You once knew him as a little boy back in Gascony did you not?”

Relieving the woman of her precious burdenTreville inspected the child, gazing into the familiar brown eyes. “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “This isn’t possible!”

“Martinique thought this would ease my heartache.” D’Artagnan turned his head slightly as he heard someone else enter the room just then.

“Captain,” a deep voice broke in, “I have the men assembled in the courtyard awaiting your orders.”

“Athos, dismiss them and come back here immediately!” Treville ordered.

Watching the play of emotions on his captain’s face, Athos would say the older officer was in shock over something. But he did as bid without question.

“Mon dieu!” Treville’s voice trembled. “How can this be?”

“Do not worry so,” Martinique soothed. “D’Artagnan’s transformation is only a temporary thing.”

“One grows up with tales of witches and warlocks but I have yet to meet one,” his angry eyes turned upon her. “So then, are you truly a witch to perform such magic as this?”

“She’s not exactly a witch,” d’Artagnan piped up. Determination written on his little face ready to defend fair maiden against any threat. His small hand clenched and unclenched as if he wished for a sword to wield.

Seeing that look in the little boy’s face reminded Captain Treville so much of their youngest Musketeer. “If I had any doubts before that expression just put paid to it I guess,” he chuckled. “And I don’t know why I’m laughing because none of this is even remotely funny.”

“Sir,” Athos came back in and heard the last part of his captain’s exchange but wasn’t sure what it was all about.

“Athos, please approach?” Treville waved a hand to his lieutenant.

As the Musketeer drew ever closer, the child watched the man's every step until Athos stood beside Treville. D'Artagnan automatically reached out to his best friend which of course made Athos back away. 

Having nothing whatsoever to do with children, Athos therefore stayed away from them. Especially with his past track record at how poorly he took care of his younger brother Thomas. 

Frowning, d’Artagnan’s lips trembled. “He doesn’t know me,” he whispered fearfully and hid his face in the captain’s leather jacket.

“Athos, strange as this may appear,” Treville gazed over the little boy’s head to where Martinique still stood, “this is d’Artagnan.” As if Treville had grown two heads he noticed Athos look at him aghast.

“Sir, you do not honestly believe that this child is our d’Artagnan? Our young one’s nineteen years old,” Athos scoffed as he looked at the tiny lad who was sniffling away tears.

“I will explain,” Martinique stepped forward. “I am descended from a very old line of spellcrafters,” she was interrupted abruptly by Athos scathing voice.

“In other words you are condemning your person by claiming to be a witch!”

“Hardly,” she retorted swiftly. “Some would consider me a sorceress but that is neither here nor there,” Martinique reached out to tip the boy’s chin up in her hand, smiling into his warm, brown eyes. “I have the ability to weave spells in the air,” locking her mocking gaze with that of Athos’s, she dipped her head. “That is when I feel that someone is in dire need of my help.”

Relieving Captain Treville of the boy, Martinique cradled him in her arms. “D’Artagnan was resting on his journey back to your garrison in my forest when his distress called out to me,” she brushed the baby soft hair out of d’Artagnan’s eyes as the boy trustingly gazed back into her own violet ones.

“A father was lost to him. The ache in his heart still great even after nearly a year.” Martinique walked over to stand beside Athos, the latter whom appeared to think she was talking out of her head. “My gift to d’Artagnan is the love of another who looks on him as a son... that man is you, Athos.” She tenderly handed the child over to the Musketeer.

Holding the tiny boy awkwardly in his arms, Athos really took a good look at the lad. He had the same features as his younger brother-in-arms. Athos still wasn’t prepared to take anything this woman said as truth. It was just to fantastical to believe. 

But the youngster took matters into his own hands as he whispered one word to Athos which took the older man’s breath away. “Milady.” Tilting his small head, d’Artganan waited to see if his friend believed then.

“Mon dieu!” Athos cried out in shocked surprise, hugging the little one tightly. “Mademoiselle, undo this I beseech you! Tis not the natural order of things!”

“Ah, but it is, Athos,” Martinique corrected gently. “As natural as breathing.” She ran her hand lightly down d’Artagnan’s head. “The spell I’ve woven for the boy will only last seven days. Enough time to heal both your hearts I think.” Placing a chaste kiss on d’Artagnan’s brow in goodbye, Martinique bowed her head to the gentlemen and turned to leave.

“Non! Don’t you dare set one foot out that door leaving d’Artagnan like this!” Athos ordered frantically.

Facing the enraged Musketeer, Martinique laughed lightly, a sweet smile danced about her lips. “Learn to play, Athos, with d’Artagnan as your teacher. It’s what you both need.”

“We can’t have a little boy running loose in the garrison with all manner of weapons at his disposal,” Athos choked out.

“Afraid I’ll best you at swords?” d’Artagnan’s little eyebrow quirked as he heard Captain Treville snort in the background.

“It’ll never happen,” Athos retorted then snapped his mouth shut as he remembered an earlier conversation when his young pupil thought he’d be able to take him and Porthos down. “How the deuce do we explain this to everyone, Captain?”

“God only knows,” Treville grumbled. “We’ll have to try and keep this under wraps just between us, Porthos and Aramis.”

“And pray the king doesn’t get wind of this or Rochefort,” Athos closed his eyes at the endless ramifications this could wrought. “But who do we explain the child as in the meantime?” Glancing sideways at d’Artagnan, Athos held back a bark of laughter when he noticed the bored expression on the little one’s features. It was so like the usual one d’Artagnan wore whenever he’d try to drum a certain fencing element into him.

“I know these are but trivial matters to you, young sir, but we have to be prepared,” Athos tapped the boy on the tip of his little nose.

“I’ll come up with some story about finding an abandoned child on the road,” Treville noticed the youngster pull a face at him. “D'Artagnan, we can’t tell anyone the truth, and we certainly can’t call you by your given name.”

“Charlie,” d’Artagnan grinned. “The men here only know me as d’Artagnan.”

“He’s right,” Athos agreed. “I doubt any of the men in the regiment know that d’Artagnan’s first name is truly Charles.” Covering his face with his free hand, Athos was still finding it hard to believe what this Martinique woman had done to his friend. But he held the truth in his arms, there was no denying it. And speaking of that woman, Athos took note that she had quietly slipped away. “Do you know where she lives, d’Artagnan?”

Nodding his head, d’Artagnan grinned impishly. “But we don’t need to find her cause like she said in seven days I’ll be me again,” he placed a small hand on either side of Athos’s face. “Believe,” he simply said then rested his head on Athos’s chest, sighing with pleasure. “Just like in a fairy tale my maman used to read to me at bedtime.”

“Athos, you, Aramis and Porthos will be off the duty roster for the coming week,” Treville said and smiled at the delighted look on little d’Artagnan’s face. “Off with both of you now while I quietly have a nervous breakdown.” As his lieutenant left, Treville heard d’Artagnan’s giggling. “I'm glad someone's amused,” he muttered. “Now where the deuce is that flask?”

++++

*Athos’s apartment*

“You jest, my friend,” Aramis laughed as he looked at the tyke bouncing up and down on Porthos’s knees.

“The child smiles all the time,” Porthos studied the lad. “Only time d’Artagnan does is if we get him drunker than a skunk. “This can’t be em’.”

“Got me drunker than a skunk last week, remember?” d’Artagnan pointed out with the innocence of the very young.

“Mon dieu! The lad’s right!” Porthos admitted chagrined because of the way Athos was staring him down. “The boy was still in misery over losing Constance to that idiot husband of hers.” His shocked look crossed that of Aramis's as they both came to the same realization that this is their little brother.

“Gentlemen, this is d’Artagnan the way he used to be,” Athos informed them as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Happy and carefree before the world cruelly dealt him a bad hand.”

“Can I have some, Athos?” the childish voice asked.

Spraying wine from his mouth, Athos glared at d’Artagnan’s cherub features. “Non!”

“I say, Athos, you’ve got wine on my doublet,” Aramis complained with a wink at the little one who was frowning fiercely at Athos. “Yes, it’s definitely d'Artagnan all right,” Aramis announced as he plucked the boy out of Porthos’s arms. Grabbing the youngster’s chin lightly in his hand Aramis chuckled. “No one can pout better than our puppy."

“Got that right,” Porthos snorted.

"Not a puppy," d'Artagnan argued.

"You were our *pup* when you was bigger," Porthos reminded the little fellow. "Now you've been downgraded to *puppy* status."

“Why can’t I have any wine?” d’Artagnan looked at all three stymied faces as the boy got back to an important topic.

“Better lock up your wine cache, Athos, until our puppy comes of age again,” Aramis quipped.

“Yeah, you better be gettin’ lots of milk for the lad too,” Porthos added with a grin.

“Milk?” Athos exclaimed at the same time as d’Artagnan squeaked it out. Both making it sound like something distasteful.

“What would Treville say if he discovered d’Artagnan had been nipping in your wine?” Aramis smiled down into the boy’s laughing face. “Ah! Liked that one, eh?” Then he heard d'Artagnan chortle in response.

“Martinique said what she did was for both of us.” Athos still reeling from what has happened studied his protege who rested contently in Aramis's arms.

“D’Artagnan still misses his father very much,” Aramis said quietly. “You still miss Thomas and we all know d’Artagnan’s filled in that gap.”

“But you also look at our lad as one would a son,” Porthos deep voice was solemn.

Understanding the conversation had turned serious again, d’Artagnan glanced sadly at Athos, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “You don’t want me this way, I know.” Wrapping his arms tight around Aramis’s neck, d’Artagnan turned his face away from his mentor and best friend.

++++

*Notes:*  
Well I didn’t mean to start another series but will see how many chapters this one takes to finish up. Comments are appreciated or suggestions as to the trouble d’Art can find amongst the regiment (grins).


	2. Snips and Snails and Kitten Tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little d'Artagnan finds a small furry friend.
> 
> Sigmund gave me this idea about each of the Musketeers thinking the other was watching d'Artagnan. When in reality the boy slips away to end up with someone totally unexpected.
> 
> See Note at end.
> 
> ++++

*Athos’s apartment*

The drama of the day before nearly forgotten, Athos and d’Artagnan decided to get re-acquainted with each other by having some fun together.

*Outside Athos’s apartment*

Aramis and Porthos were about to enter Athos’s rooms when they heard the sound of childish giggling coming from within. They slowly entered the apartment only to be greeted by a small whirlwind running all over the place in search of something or someone.

“D’Artagnan, slow down, lad, you’ll do yourself an injury,” Porthos hollered out.

“What are you doing by the way?” Arams asked as he set down a huge bag on the table.

“We’re playing hide and seek,” d’Artagnan frowned at them. “Athos is pretty good at it cause I haven’t found him yet.”

“Want some help?” Porthos grinned over at Aramis’s surprised face.

“That wouldn’t be fair,” d’Artagnan retorted and immediately took off for parts unknown in search of the missing Athos.

“Oh that’s d’Artagnan to a tee,” Aramis laughed.

“Yeah,” Porthos agreed. “His sense of honor won’t change just cause he’s a little fellow right now.” Watching the child’s abundance of energy as he hunted for their friend, Porthos felt exhausted.

“I say, I’m tired just watching the boy,” Aramis remarked almost as if he read his huge friend’s mind. He tried to spy where Athos was hiding and couldn’t tell from his position. Finally he heard d’Artagnan give up the chase.

“Athos?” D’Artagnan plopped down on the floor and called out, “Olly, olly oxen free!” His eyes widened when he noticed Athos crawl out from underneath the bed. D’Artagnan was astonished to say the least. “Never thought you could squeeze under there so I didn’t look,” he huffed. Annoyed at himself for not thinking about it.

Dusting himself off, Athos stared in surprise at his two visitors. “Didn’t here you two come in.”

“With all the noise our little lad’s makin’ I don’t know how you would have,” Porthos grinned and bent down to ruffle d’Artagnan’s unruly long hair.

“He needs a hair cut,” Athos commented and watched how fast the boy ran out of the room. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “It’s a sure fired remedy to having a few minutes peace.”

“Yes, I can see where d’Artagnan wouldn’t want to part with his hair,” Aramis chuckled as he patted his own wavy locks.

“I do not believe I was ever cut out to deal with children,” Athos admitted to them.

“Well you’re good at hide and seek from what we could see,” Aramis noted.

“Er yes, well I had plenty of experience playing that game with Thomas. It was a favorite of his.”

“D’Artagnan, come back in here to see what we brought you!” Porthos bellowed.

Racing back inside the room, d’Artagnan skidded to a halt and just blinked his curious eyes at the table where various toys were piled. “I’m only going to be little for seven days. Why’d you collect all this?”

Porthos snickered as he nudged Aramis in the side. “Aramis here’s lady friend’s children are grown now and he figured she wouldn’t mind if he borrowed some for you.”

“There’s sure a lot of them,” d’Artagnan glanced at Aramis. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of them.”

“I know you will, d’Artagnan.” Looking back over at Athos, Aramis crooked a finger for the other man to come closer. “You need to check on Roger. I was in the stables about thirty minutes ago and your horse wouldn’t take any feed. I don't know if Roger's sickening for something.”

“All right I’ll go check on him now.” Watching the boy and Porthos playing with the toys he knew he didn’t have to ask either man to stay. They just would without question.

Just after Athos left someone came knocking at his door needing Aramis’s help with a certain matter. So with a nod to Porthos he too left.

“Looks like it’s just me and you, lad,” Porthos chucked d’Artagnan under the chin making the little one giggle engagingly.

They just started to have a mock duel with two wooden swords when another loud knock on the door interrupted the duo. 

Answering it, Rene was there needing Porthos’s advice. “I can’t leave right now.”

“Oh we know about the abandoned child all of you are watching.” Rene glanced over at the youngster and smiled when the boy waved at him. “Take him with you. He’ll be safe enough in the barracks with us.”

“Don’t think it could hurt any,” Porthos agreed and scooped d’Artagnan up in his arms whispering in the child’s ear. “Remember now… you’re Charlie.”

Giggling, d’Artagnan nodded his head as he rode piggy back on Porthos.

++++

*Garrison barracks*

“Pierre, you’re not handling the blade the right way!” Porthos growled.

“Well if you’d just show me that move outside maybe I could get the hang of it. I don’t want to hurt the child in these close quarters.”

“Charlie,” Porthos started but the little boy held up a hand.

“Not a baby, Porthos. I’ll be fine.”

Grunting, Porthos went outside hoping d’Artagnan could look after himself for a short time without getting into any mischief. Course that could be asking a lot of their young one.

++++

*Courtyard*

As Athos came out of the stable he ran into the captain.

“Who is watching d’Artagnan?” Treville raised a brow in question.

“Something’s wrong with Roger and I left him with Aramis and Porthos for company.”

“Oh fine, fine,” Treville smiled. “Everything okay so far?”

“As good as could be expected considering our nineteen year old d’Artagnan is about six years old,” Athos snorted, “sir.”

Patting Athos on the shoulder in sympathy Treville just grinned. “Carry on, son.”

“I don’t have much choice,” Athos muttered as he watched the captain walk away. Heading back to his apartment Athos spotted Aramis coming towards him. “Tell me Porthos is with d’Artagnan?”

“Of course,” Aramis replied. “I had a friend that needed a few pointers for his theology thesis he’s working on.”

“Well let’s see what trouble those two stirred up, eh?” Athos grinned.

When they both got back to the apartment and found it empty they instantly bolted outside. Looking around they saw Porthos sparring with Pierre and no d’Artagnan in sight. 

Running quickly over, Athos wasn’t feeling considerate in the least when he stopped the fencing lesson. Tapping his huge friend on the back he waited to be acknowledged.

“Oh hi, Athos,” Porthos sheathed his sword into his scabbard.

“Oh hi, Athos?” Athos repeated in disbelief raising one eyebrow high. “Where’s Charlie?” he snapped. He had to remember they were in mixed company and not tangle the names up.

“The boy seemed like he’d be okay for a few minutes while I showed Pierre a tricky move he was having problems with.” Porthos watched the look on Athos’s face and it wasn’t pleasant to see.

“Charlie better be all right,” Athos growled as he turned around and took the steps to the barracks two at a time.”

“He mad at me?” Porthos glanced at Aramis who simply shrugged back.

Entering the barracks Athos didn’t see d’Artagnan anywhere. He did a thorough search and came up empty. “Mon dieu!” Going to the door he bellowed out, “Porthos, get up here this instant!”

Running at top speed Porthos stopped dead at the ferocious expression Athos wore. “What’s wrong?”

Seeing Pierre hovering in the background Athos was careful what he said. “No Charlie that’s what’s wrong!”

“Where could the youngster have gone?” Aramis prayed their little soldier didn’t create any trouble until he could be found.

++++

*Courtyard*

D’Artagnan had sneaked outside while Porthos was engaged with Pierre. He had seen a small tan and white kitten playing by itself and wanted to join in the fun. So he began to chase after it, trying his best to catch the kitten by the tail.

He nearly caught his prey until a pair of boots connected to a long pair of legs got in his way. Hitting the solid mass hard with his head, little d’Artagnan bounced off the legs and fell on his small rump. Slightly dazed he looked up a very great distance to see an unsmiling face staring back down at him. The man did not seem pleased at all.

“What the deuce are you doing running around here?” Comte Rochefort leaned down quite a ways to pick the child up in his arms.

“Uh, chasing that kitten over there, sir.”

With the boy in his hold Rochefort’s nose nearly touched the youngster’s own. “What name do you go by enfant?”

“Charlie, sir.”

“You have manners I’ll give you that,” Rochefort muttered more to himself than the child. Feeling something curling around his leg he glanced down and saw the kitten which began to purr. “Oh for the love of...” Rochefort broke off as his head snapped back up to stare at Charlie who began to laugh.

“It must like you,” d’Artagnan smiled at him. “The kitten wouldn’t stop long enough for me to catch it.”

“Probably it knew you wanted to pull its tail,” Rochefort snorted, hiding a smile that threatened to come out as a darling little pout formed on Charlie’s face. “Where are your parents?”

“I got separated from them somehow,” d’Artagnan supplied with just the right amount of sadness. “The captain’s trying to find them for me.”

“So you’re staying with *who* in the meantime?”

“Athos, Porthos and Aramis,” d’Artagnan announced proudly.

“A poor job they’re doing too,” Rochefort grunted. Not seeing those three in his sights and having his arms full with Charlie, Rochefort decided to take him to his office.

When they arrived Rochefort put the youngster on his feet and left Charlie playing with the kitten who decided to follow them. Shouting for one of the Red Guards, Rochefort went to his desk and sat down. When a guard entered his office he snapped his fingers. “Find the Musketeers Athos, Porthos and Aramis. Send them up here immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” The Red Guard turned to leave but ended up tripping inelegantly over the kitten who began hissing at him. In turn d’Artagnan filled the room with peels of laughter as he watched the guard back away keeping the kitten in his sights the entire time.

Sighing, Rochefort looked in resigned resignation at the hapless guard and pointed toward the door for him to leave.

“Perhaps we should enlist the kitten into the order of the guards,” Rochefort smiled slightly at the child. “What say you to that eh, Charlie?”

Giggling with pure pleasure, d’Artagnan played with the kitten, the latter seemed to have decided that he liked his company after all. “I think, sir, the kitten would be more content in the regiment of the Musketeers.”

“Mon dieu! To be taken down a peg by a little boy!” Rochefort exclaimed in mock disgust. “It doesn’t bare thinking on.”

There was a knock at his door just then interrupting their word play. Rochefort barked, “Enter!”

Three harried looking Musketeers rushed into the room.

Athos caught himself just in time, nearly crying out his young friend’s true name. “Charlie!”

“Hi, Athos, I’m playing with a kitten.”

“I can see that, young one,” Athos placed his hands on his hips as he glared at the boy. “You led us a merry dance looking all over the grounds for you.”

“I didn’t cause any trouble, honest. Ask him. He’ll tell you,” d’Artagnan pointed over at Rochefort.

“We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Comte,” Aramis apologized.

“No harm done,” Rochefort seemed hard pressed to add something but thought better of it. “You may take him away now.”

“Our thanks,” Porthos added.

“All in a days work, gentlemen.” Rochefort bent his head and carried on with his duties as he began to write something down on a ledger at hand. “Oh do take the kitten with you as well. Especially since Charlie feels it will do better in the service of the Musketeers than the honorable Red Guards.”

“Huh?” Porthos puzzled gaze intercepted that of Aramis and Athos’s confused ones.

“Athos, do you think the captain has a small blue cloak that would fit my kitten?” D’Artagnan’s said kitten crawled onto his shoulder. Finding a nice home there with its tail swishing back and forth.

“I think the kitten’s adopted the boy,” Porthos laughed.

“Or the other way around,” Aramis grinned.

“Next thing you know Charlie will want a hat for the animal to wear,” Rochefort muttered.

“That’s a good idea, sir,” Charlie giggled.

Covering his face with a hand, Rochefort eyed the men in the room waving them away.

Ushering d’Artagnan quickly out the door, Athos then breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

“One would think that Rochefort dealt with children all the time,” Aramis commented. “He didn’t seem out of sorts with our boy at all.”

“Ya know,” Porthos said, “that kitten could become the Musketeer’s mascot.”

“See!” d’Artagnan nodded looking up at Athos for approval. “Now let’s go ask Captain Treville for that cloak.”

“And the hat,” Aramis added holding his sides from laughing so hard at how serious d’Artagnan seemed about the whole thing.

“I’m surrounded by lunacy,” Athos grumbled while tugging on d’Artagnan’s hair. He whispered in the boy’s ear, “And you’re the head lunatic.”

Walking back down the steps, Porthos and Aramis’s laughter could be heard by all. While the kitten looked on as if nothing untoward had happened, still content to stay on d’Artagnan’s small shoulder.

“It’s a Musketeer cat, Athos,” Aramis clasped his old friend on the shoulder.

“Treville’s gonna love this,” Porthos chuckled.

“Gentlemen,” Athos said, “and I use the term quite loosely. Next time I have to leave the boy with either of you,” he sighed. “I suggest that you buy a leash.”

++++

Note:  
I will continue to take suggestions on what trouble d'Art can get into and work it into the story. Thanks!


	3. Puss ‘n’ Musketeer Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About little d'Art and his kitten.
> 
> I had all types of names for a French cat but settled on Masselin because it translates to Little Thomas and of course we all know by now that was Athos’s younger brother’s name (grins)
> 
> Also see note at end
> 
> ++++

(Shortly after their visit with Comte Rochefort)

*Captain Treville’s office*

“He was with Rochefort!” Treville couldn’t believe what his men just told him.

“And the comte seemed mite comfortable with our lad,” Porthos added while observing d’Artagnan rolling around the floor with his kitten batting him on the nose playfully.

“Where did that cat come from?’ Treville watched the pair’s antics and thought it was rather sweet until he sneezed that is. His men looked at him with concern as he waved it away. “It’s nothing. I’m a little allergic to cat fur.”

“We will not stay long then.” Athos threw Aramis an irritated look as his friend nudged him in the side, so he nudged back. Aramis leaned over and whispered something in his ear and then Athos snapped, low enough for only his romantic friend to hear. “I will not ask him that!”

“Ain’t ya goin’ to ask em” Porthos’s booming voice filled the room as Athos hung his head in dispair while Aramis laughed into his hand.

“Ask me what?” Treville studied the trio with undisguised interest, wondering what was wrong with Athos.

“Captain,” d’Artagnan finally spoke up, tired of all the grown up dithering. Looking at the older officer with his expressive brown eyes d’Artagnan proffered the question that Athos wouldn’t. “Since my friend feels it’s beneath him I’ll ask you,” he glanced down at his cat rubbing the silky soft fur. “Do you have a blue cloak that would fit my kitten?”

“What in the world!” Treville was at a complete loss to understand what was going on around him anymore. Perhaps if he pinched himself he might awaken from this daydream of confusion. But the amusement in Aramis and Porthos’s eyes told their own story. “I gather this is what Athos was loath to approach me with?” he said dryly.

“You see, Captain, my kitten is going to belong to the ranks of the Musketeers, in service to our king and queen,” d’Artagnan patiently explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to anyone that had any sense at all. His kitten danced around him in a circle oblivious to all the attention it was receiving.

“Would anyone, aside from d’Artagnan, care to explain what the deuce he’s going on about?” Treville drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk.

Stepping forward hat in hand Aramis smiled, his warm, brown eyes twinkling in the light. “You see it started out as a joke between Rochefort and our youngest.”

“Go on,” Treville urged waiting to hear yet another story of interest he was sure.

“Well the comte said the cat could do better in service to his Red Guards, but d’Artagnan disagreed saying it was a Musketeer cat,” Aramis coughed into his hand disguising his laughter.

“Ah! I see,” Treville smiled as he gazed fondly at the child. “D’Artgnan, first things first. Your cat must have an appropriate name before he can be inducted.”

Pausing from his play, d’Artagnan’s small mouth formed a perfect *O*. Staring at the kitten he frowned as he concentrated.

“It’s a hard decision, I know,” Treville remarked. “But before I can have the cat enter into our service you must name him.” Then his brows drew together as he stabbed his men with a look. “It is a *he* correct?”

“Oh yes, sir,” Athos replied trying not to choke on the words. He couldn’t believe they were seriously discussing this.

Little d’Artagnan then had an inner conversation with himself as what to do. Nodding his head as if he came to a decision he placed a gentle hand on the small kitten’s head as if he were about to give it a blessing. “I dub thee Masselin!” He seemed pleased with his choice of name and shyly glanced up to peek at Athos for his friend’s reaction.

“Mon dieu!” Athos’s eyes started to water as he turned his back on everyone for a moment.

All in the room knew why d’Artagnan chose that particular name.

Clearing his throat and making sure the few tears that had escaped were not visible, Athos turned around. “D’Artagnan, my younger brother would have been honored if he had lived.”

Beaming, d’Artagnan gathered the kitten for a snuggle and kissed its nose. Holding it away from him he giggled. “Now you have a wonderful name. You better live up to it,” he wagged a finger at the kitten who tried to nip it thinking the boy was playing a game.

“Thought d’Artagnan would have called it Lionell,” Porthos remarked to Aramis.

“Mmmm, yes, Masselin is the color of a lion but if it were left up to me I would have preferred Lancelot,” Aramis chuckled as he saw d’Artagnan scowl up at him. “What? You don’t like that name?”

“Non! Masselin is not anyone’s servant,” d’Artagnan snapped, knowing full well the meaning behind that name.

Figuring he’d better break this up before the youngster started a brawl amongst his men, Treville got up and walked around his desk. He squatted down near the pair and ran a hand down the kitten’s back which of course prompted a sneezing fit. Realizing that may have not been his wisest course he straightened up and backed away slightly. “I officially pronounce Masselin a member of the Musketeer Corp.!”

“My thanks, Captain,” d’Artagnan’s whole face lit up.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully Treville smiled down at d’Artagnan. Gruffly he added, “I’ll work on getting Masselin outfitted.”

Pleased with that announcement d’Artagnan picked up Masselin and with a nod to Captain Treville trotted out of the office with Porthos and Aramis trailing behind trying their best to stifle their hilarity.

“Things used to be so dull around here, eh, Athos?” Treville grinned.

“I do believe so,” Athos agreed, a small smile of his own playing about his lips. “Uh, sir?”

“Yes?”

“*Outfitted*?” Athos snorted with a raised eyebrow.

“Leave that part to me,” Treville waved him away. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint the child.”

Lips twitching, Athos pulled his hat down low over his eyes. “I better make sure Masselin doesn’t give you cause to bring him up on disorderly conduct charges.”

“You do that,” Treville snorted as his lieutenant finally went outside. Thinking to himself he wondered who he knew that could help him with his own mission.

++++

*Athos’s apartment*

“But I’m not sleepy yet,” d’Artagnan complained. He had been giving Athos a difficult time about going to bed early.

“Well *try*!” Athos snapped as he struggled for the third time to get the boy into his nightshirt. No sooner did he pull it over d’Artagnan’s small form when the child removed it just as fast.

“Aramis!” Athos was on his last nerve and d’Artagnan just stepped on it. “See if you have better luck.”

Slowly strolling over Aramis watched the other man storm off. “Athos has no finesse over these matters, d’Artagnan.” Watching the adorable face studying him in turn, Aramis picked up the nightshirt and attempted to put it on the youngster with as much luck or lack of it as Athos had.

“Why can’t I stay up?” D’Artagnan scowled as Masselin curled on the end of his bed and seemed to be catnapping.

“Look at Masselin,” Aramis grinned. “That’s what you should be doing instead of playing tug of war with that nightshirt.”

“Masselin had a big day becoming a Musketeer,” d’Artagnan boasted as if that explained away the tired kitten at the foot of his bed.

“What!” Porthos barked as he joined them. “You’re still awake?” He had been outside for a time and thought for sure the boy would be asleep by now.

“It would appear so,” d’Artagnan retorted sharply and looked at the offensive nightshirt dangling between Aramis’s fingers. So, rolling his eyes he snatched it from his friend and threw it on. “There! Satisfied?”

“When you go to sleep I will be,” Aramis good natured smile slipped slightly. Whispering to Porthos he said, “Now I know why I never married and had children.”

“Yeah,” Porthos frowned. “Does put you off a tad. Don’t it?”

“I’ll try my best to go to sleep. You two don’t have to stand guard over me.”

“Youngin’s giving us our marching orders,” Porthos laughed as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of d’Artagnan’s head with Aramis following his example before they both left.

Joining Athos at the table both Musketeers reached out for their glasses of wine that Athos had filled waiting for them.

“Our puppy asleep?” Athos downed his drink in one swallow.

“He’s workin’ on it,” Porthos exchanged a wry look with Aramis, the latter snorting into his glass.

"Let's pray that as a little one d'Artagnan doesn't sleep walk," Aramis added.

"Mon dieu! That's enough to give me nightmares," Athos glared at his friend for bringing it up.

Shrugging, Aramis filled his glass again but kept one eye on the bedroom door just in case.

“Wonder how the captain’s gonna fulfill his promise of a uniform for Masselin.” Porthos watched both his friends frown as they finished their wine.

“I have no idea,” Aramis hoped the boy didn’t get upset with the captain if Treville couldn’t work out a miracle.

“This day felt neverending and we haven’t even crossed swords with anyone,” Athos commented as he noticed the other two men yawn. “Do you want to spend the night here with us?”

“Nah,” Porthos put down his glass. “I’m for my own bed.”

“As am I,” Aramis patted Athos on the shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

“Pass a good night then.” Athos saw his friends out and then peeked in on d’Artagnan before he too turned in. His eyes danced at the picture the twosome left him with and would stay with him for years to come. The boy and Masselin were curled up in each others arms sound asleep. Athos even heard the kitten purring. Probably dreaming of catching his own breakfast come morning. He snickered to himself quietly. Well Athos knew once d’Artagnan was big again he would have quite a bit of blackmail material to hang over the young Gascon's foolish head.

++++

*Next Day*

A summons had been delivered to Athos’s door to have Masselin presented to Captain Treville as soon as possible. So after he and d'Artagnan had made themselves presentable they went and sat down outside in the courtyard to eat a hasty breakfast that Serge provided for them. Then Athos gathered up d’Artagnan and his kitten to deposit them both at Treville’s door.

Entering the office Athos removed his hat. “Sir, you requested us?” He anchored the boy to his side with an arm around the lad's shoulder just in case he bolted for whatever reason. 

“Well actually it was Masselin I needed to see,” Treville smiled down at a curious d’Artagnan. Son, why don’t you go down to the stables with Athos and see if any of the horses need their feed while Masselin remains with me for a time.”

Glancing up into Athos’s face, d’Artagnan seemed to accept what he saw there and carefully handed over his kitten into the captain’s keeping. “I’ll see you in a little while, Masselin. Hand in hand d’Artagnan left with his best friend.

Athos had to wonder though what Treville had in mind for the cat but figured it wasn’t anything of import. “Let’s see how hungry Roger and Zad are, eh.” Hearing the boy’s sunny laughter made his heart ease. 

“Perhaps Belle and Roulette as well,” d’Artagnan added with a grin.

++++

Thirty minutes later as d’Artagnan and Athos came out of the stables, Captain Treville approached them wearing a broad smile. Since he was outside where anyone could hear him Treville remembered to not call the boy by his given name. “Charlie, Masselin is now ready for your inspection,” he announced with relish. Stepping aside, the small kitten paraded before them.

It was truly a sight to behold as Masselin sported his little blue cloak fastened at his neck by a shiny button that sparkled like a jewel. The kitten’s tiny feet were adorned with a type of black leather material constructed in such a way to resemble boots.

“Ooooooh!” D’Artagnan was all eyes as he took in Masselin’s uniform along with a goodly portion of Musketeers who stopped their sparring to observe the proceedings with happy faces.

Porthos and Aramis had joined their friends and couldn’t help but chuckle at the little Puss ‘n’ Boots.

“May I inquire as to whom made our newest recruit’s attire?” Athos managed the words with a straight face.

“Serge may be a retired Musketeer but in his heyday he handled a mean needle and thread to rival Aramis’s talents.

“Only thing missin’ is a hat and pauldron,” Porthos pointed out and grunted as Athos kicked him in the leg.

“I say,” Aramis whispered so only his friends and the captain could hear, “Masselin acquires a hat when our dear d’Artagnan does once he comes back to us.”

“That may never happen since our young one says it would muss up his hair,” Porthos snorted. He had more to say on that issue but stopped at the Rochefort's approach.

“What is going on?” Rochefort’s presence dispersed many a Musketeer as the man walked over to Treville's side. When he spotted Charlie and the cat he stopped dead in his tracks seeming bewildered. “Why is that kitten dressed in that manner?”

“Because Charlie wanted it to join the Musketeers,” Aramis grinned.

“Don’t your remember what we talked about?” d’Artagnan asked the comte with a serious face.

“Ah, yes. As I recall I wanted him in the Red Guards.” Rochefort stared at the kitten and shook his head sadly. “Pity.” He turned around and casually walked away but still managed to have the last word as he threw over his shoulder, “The cat’s uniform is not complete without a proper hat and I won't even mention the pauldron."

“Then why did he mention it?" Porthos growled low.

“Let us not grumble over trifles, Porthos," Athos chuckled. "Let us leave that for another day."

So as the inseparables, d'Artagnan and Captain Treville watched on, Masselin preened in all his cat glory before them. 

++++

Note: As a sort of inside joke, when Aramis mentions he would have rather had the cat named Lancelot, I referred to the BBC production of Merlin. For those of us who watched that series, Santiago Cabrera played the character of Lancelot for a few episodes.


	4. Masselin to the Rescue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D'Artagnan (a/k/a Charlie) finds trouble... again!
> 
> This was a suggestion from TinkerBella. Have the boy fall down a hole, cave in, etc. So I went with it.
> 
> ++++

*Shortly after Masselin’s Musketeer induction*

Rene, Benoit, Jerome and a few other Musketeers had stayed behind and were treated to something they never thought they’d be witnesses too. Which was Athos chasing Charlie all over the courtyard playing *catch me if you can*. Clearly the winner so far was the little boy. The youngster was swift as lightning and almost seemed to fly through the air as his feet didn’t appear to touch the ground or so it looked to the men in attendance.

At a safe distance sat Aramia and Porthos with Masselin sandwiched in-between them watching Athos and d’Artagnan tearing across the grounds. 

It was Porthos who was surprised that Masselin didn’t join d’Artagnan at play and voiced this thought out loud to Aramis.

“My dear, Porthos,” Aramis laughed. “Masselin is in all his finery. Why would he want to get all scruffy and dirty?”

“Oh yeah,” Porthos nodded lost in thought as he remembered when he and his friends had been guarding the queen. Athos had decided on a training exercise where their youngest needed to practice fighting off two assailants at the same time with one arm behind his back.

D’Artagnan’s uniform had been too bright and shiny to their way of thinking so he and Athos took great delight in marking the lad’s pauldron with their swords and then knocking him on his young ass only to drag him through the dirt. Then d’Artagnan didn’t look so much like his mum had dressed him. So Masselin was walking down that same path apparently with not wanting to muss up his pretty cloak and boots.

The sounds of laughter filled the courtyard as Athos finally caught up to the youngster and began tickling him in earnest.

“Stop it, Athos!” D’Artagnan batted his friend’s hands away to no avail as the tickling attack continued.

“Gentlemen,” Captain Treville had made his rounds reviewing the regiment to see how their training was coming along after the business of inducting Masselin into their ranks. Now he decided to sit down and observe his lieutenant enjoying some lighthearted moments with their youngest and brightest. “Athos appears happy,” he smiled. “It’s a good look on him.”

“I quite agree, sir,” Aramis grinned.

“Never knew Athos could smile or laugh that much,” Porthos shook his head in absolute wonder over the change in his older friend.

Finally Athos joined the others holding a squirming d’Artagnan in his arms.

“Wore ya out, did he?” Porthos reached out for the boy and settled the lad on his lap.

Relieving himself of d’Artagnan’s light weight, Athos watched as the child tried to wriggle out of Porthos’s grasp.

“Men,” Treville chuckled as he watched Porthos and d’Artagnan’s foreheads touching as they were both involved in some heated discussion or other. “As I was starting to say,” Treville cleared his throat to gain attention of his three best soldiers, “I’m going to need you all for a short mission.”

The captain’s words got through to Porthos who stopped arguing with d’Artagnan. Glancing at the youngster he worried who was going to look after the lad if all three of them were going to leave.

Seeing that look and interpreting it correctly, d’Artagnan offered all of them a huge smile. “I’ll be just fine on my own.”

Four faces frowned down at him.

“Honest I will.” But d’Artagnan saw that none of them were buying that story.

“I’d watch you but I have a meeting with Comte Rochefort shortly.” It hadn’t even crossed Treville’s mind to set someone up to babysit d'Artagnan.

“I could come with you, Captain,” d’Artagnan announced as he glanced at Treville. “Rochefort didn’t seem to mind very much when I was there before with Masselin.”

“Er, yes, but I doubt the comte would want little ears hearing whatever we’re going to be discussing.” Treville watched d’Artagnan nod his head in understanding.

“I’ve got an idea,” Porthos spoke up. “Serge could keep an eye on our lad for us.”

“Great idea,” d’Artagnan agreed. “Masselin and I can thank him personally for the uniform too.”

“Let’s drop off d'Artagnan now then and the captain can give us further details on our assignment.” Athos took d’Artagnan by the hand and headed for the kitchen where he knew Serge would be hollering out orders to his staff. Glancing down at Masselin who appeared to be eyeing a field mouse with hunger in his eyes, Athos stifled his laughter. “Perhaps Serge will provide lunch for both of you later."

++++

Serge didn’t mind having Charlie or his cat for company and enjoyed seeing his handiwork on display for all to see as everyone commented on his creative sewing for Masselin’s uniform.

Charlie proved to be a helpful child as he worked along side Serge in the kitchen. Occasionally kneading bread or drying dishes. Masselin enjoyed being the center of attention as Musketeers that came and went petted the little kitten.

Unfortunately Serge got very busy the closer it got to lunch time and somehow forgot about overseeing Charlie.

Bored, d'Artagnan wandered outside and since most of the Musketeers were gathering for lunch the courtyard was nearly empty. He knew he was supposed to stay with Serge but figured what could happen to him if he just went for a short stroll outside of the grounds?

So d’Artagnan, happy to be on his own, lost track of time as he played amongst the flowers and the butterflies in the field past the garrison.

Time passed swiftly for the boy, and when he realized he had been gone too long d'Artagnan took stock of his surroundings and realized he was lost. Not recognizing the area he was in he didn't become afraid, instead his attention was caught by a nearby cave he spotted. So d'Artagnan decided to have an adventure by investigating it instead of worrying about where he was.

He remembered something Porthos had once told him long ago that there weren’t any wild animals living near the garrison. So it was a relief that d’Artagnan didn’t have to worry about encountering any as he drew closer to the cave. 

Once d’Artagnan carefully entered the cave, light from outside filtered in so it wasn’t really that dark for him to see. But what he didn’t know was that it was very unstable. All it needed was for one loose rock to give way and the whole thing would come crumbling down.

Looking all around him d’Artagnan was fascinated with how the cavern walls seemed to sparkle which was probably a trick of the light that seeped in. With his imagination he pretended they were diamonds just waiting to be mined.

Losing his footing, d’Artagnan tripped and instinctively reached out to grab for purchase on some protruding rocks. Once he did, those rocks from years of erosion gave way beneath the small weight in turn causing that entire section to cave in around him.

++++

*Back at the garrison*

“Well why did all three of us have to go,” Porthos complained. “We were only gone a few hours at most.”

“Captain Treville needed to make sure that document he entrusted into our care made it safely to its destination,” Athos rather annoyed explained this for the second time to his huge comrade. When he heard Porthos grunt of understanding Athos tried hard not to snicker.

When they rode into the garrison it was to mounting chaos as men were seen running to and fro. Even more Musketeers were coming from out of the stables on their horses getting ready to head out.

“I wonder what has happened?” Aramis noticed Treville marching their way seeming upset over something.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Treville said, “d’Artagnan’s missing.

“Ya mean Serge lost em?” Porthos growled.

“Let’s not blame him. They were doing fine together until the lunch crowd arrived and that’s when Serge got overwhelmed with feeding all the men,” Treville explained running a hand through his thinning hair.

“And d’Artagnan took advantage of that to take off on his own,” Athos slammed his hand on his leg. Still being mounted on Roger that motion disturbed the horse who then started to prance around. It took a few minutes for Athos to get the animal back under control.

“Is that why everyone is all over the place like chickens with their heads cut off?” Porthos questioned.

“Every available man has been searching for the boy. I’m sending the others outside of the garrison to see if d’Artagnan went that direction.

“You don’t feel he entered the city?” Aramis frowned.

“Non. To a little boy of his background it would be great fun to run free in the fields with nature,” Treville’s voice shook. “Mon dieu! If anything happens to that youngster...”

“Captain,” Athos said sharply, “this is d’Artagnan we’re talking about. He’s a survivor like the rest of us.”

“Our roles seemed reversed today,” Treville noted. “It should be I bolstering you.”

The three inseparables exchanged grim looks and with a nod from Athos, they all headed back to the stables to refresh their horses. No one spoke while they fed and watered their mounts, but they each knew they’d be heading back out to help their brothers find their lost lamb.

Once they were done and back outside they noticed Comte Rochefort ride over to their captain. Wondering what that was all about the three men quickly joined them.

“Where do you need me?” Rochefort had heard about Charlie missing and was concerned for the child. “Charlie’s already been separated from his parents. I do not wish to see anymore misfortune come his way.”

“If you would like, Comte, you may ride with us as we join the search,” Athos nodded appreciatively at the man.

“All right,” Rochefort agreed. As he started to follow them out he heard Masselin mewling loudly. Stopping his horse he looked down on the small kitten. Rochefort could understand its feeling of loss. “You miss the little fellow too don’t you?”

“Talking to a cat?”

Twisting around on his mount, Rochefort stared into Treville’s amused eyes. “At least the cat can’t talk back,” he threw an irritated look at the captain.

“True,” Treville was going to add more but then his gaze locked on Athos’s serious expression and he thought better of it. “I’m going to continue the search on our grounds. If Charlie is not here I’ll join you men.”

Leaving the captain behind, four determined men were almost out the gates when Masselin’s mewling grew in intensity.

“Is the cat hurtin' for something?” Porthos wondered out loud.

“Yes, he's missing Charlie,” Rochefort snapped at what he thought was a stupid remark from the Musketeer.

Then, taking them all by surprise, they watched the cat run hell for leather out past the garrison gates. Each man took turns looking at each other wondering what to do.

“Perhaps we should follow Masselin’s lead,” Athos suggested as they trailed after the kitten.

++++

“Where’d he go?” Porthos barked.

“There, that tan and white blur has to be Masselin,” Aramis shouted.

“I see him too,” Rochefort yelled.

“How long have we been at this?” Athos said as he pushed back his hat.

“Our new Musketeer’s been on the scent for nearly forty minutes.” Aramis couldn’t believe their young one had strayed so far away from home.

“I believe Masselin’s finally stopped,” Athos pointed out, immediately turning pale when he realized what he was looking at. “Mon dieu! It’s a cave!”

The four men reigned in their mounts in front of the cave's entrance where Masselin stood rigid, mewling like crazy.

Athos’s eyes narrowed as he noticed that it looked like there had been a recent cave in. “If Charlie’s inside...” he broke off not being able to continue.

“Masselin’s not moving so he must be within,” Aramis placed a comforting hand on Athos’s shoulder feeling the other man shudder beneath his fingers.

“I’m going to gather the men we passed by earlier and have them come help us remove those rocks.” With grim determination in his blue eyes, Rochefort turned his horse around and galloped away.

“D’Artagan’s gonna be just fine,” Porthos spoke softly to his friends.

“He won’t be once I get my hands on him,” Athos growled low. 

“I’ll be just happy to hear his sweet little voice chirping away in my ear,” Aramis held back tears that were threatening to fall.

“Well let’s get to the business at hand then,” Athos ordered as they divested themselves of their hats, jackets and weapons to get down and dirty removing the rocks that kept them from their youngest.

++++

*Inside the cave*

Coughing away the dust that he had inhaled, d’Artagnan blinked his eyes against the inky blackness in front of him. He must have been knocked out for a short time by falling debris. D’Artagnan realized no one knew his location and he figured it would be useless to spend his energy shouting for help no one would hear, especially since he felt quite dizzy. So he decided to lay down and close his eyes for just a few moments til the dizziness passed. He had no way of knowing what was going on outside and that his kitten had led the way to his salvation.

++++

Outside the cave the three inseparables had been joined by Rochefort again as well as over a dozen Musketeers. With so many hands helping they made decent inroads to creating an opening for one of them to crawl through.

It was decided that Aramis, who appeared to be the slimmest of all the men there, should try his luck at crawling through the space they had created. And being the medic of the group it only made sense since he would know how d’Artagnan fared.

Watching Aramis enter the cave every man left behind prayed for the little boy inside.

Once Aramis came out the other side the light that came through the opening filled the inside of the cave just enough for him to see. And at once he spotted a small figure laying flat on the ground. “Non! Non! Non!” Aramis’s heart stopped as he reached out a shaky hand for d’Artagnan thinking the boy was dead. Feeling for a pulse he shed a few tears as he felt the light thrumming of life beneath his fingertips.

Checking the child over he didn’t find anything broken which was a good sign but did feel a nice sized lump on top of d’Artagnan’s small head. “That’s going to smart for awhile,” he murmured.

Moaning softly, d’Artagnan slowly opened his eyes again and saw Aramis grinning down at him.

Holding d’Artagnan in his arms tenderly Aramis kissed him on both cheeks. “You are in so much trouble, young one. But I am very happy you’re still among the living.”

“Athos is going to be really angry isn’t he?” d’Artagnan rested his dirty forehead against Aramis’s equally dirty one.

“That would be a definite *yes*.” Aramis tried to dust the boy off but figured what was the use when he was just as filthy. “Let’s get you out into the sunlight, eh?”

“How did you find me?”

“Masselin has performed admirably on his first assignment by locating you,” Aramis chuckled at d’Artagnan’s astonished features. “We will make sure to serve him the finest tuna money can buy at first opportunity.”

Calling out to the anxious men waiting, Aramis had good news. “Charlie’s alive and I’m sending him out first!”

As d’Artagnan climbed out he heard all the men cheering for him and felt badly that he had caused them to worry so. As soon as he was standing outside of the cave his gaze took in Athos’s strained one. His lips began to tremble as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m sorry I disobeyed and left the garrison.”

Practically leaping for the boy, Athos held d’Artagnan tightly in his arms. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to God for protecting stubborn, defiant, little Gascons. Kissing his precious bundle’s dirt streaked face, Athos finally breathed easier. “Has my hair turned completely white yet?”

“Mine probably has,” Porthos grumbled as he took his turn hugging d’Artagnan. “What are we gonna do with you, you torment?” He gently shook the child and then hugged him again.

Looking around while still held in the safety of Porthos’s hold, d’Artagnan was shocked at all the Musketeers that had helped dig him out. He was even more stunned to see a disheveled, dirty Rocheforte in attendance. “I’m so very sorry to have caused all this trouble, sir.”

Trying to wipe the grime from his face only made Rochefort smudge it all the more. He was just as filthy as everyone else, but he was happy Charlie was alive. “All in a day’s work,” he laughed. “Gave the Musketeers a good workout that I’m sure they’ll remember for some time to come.” Looking the boy up and down he noticed a small bit of redness on Charlie's scalp.

Seeing where Rochefort’s gaze settled, Aramis explained. “Well Charlie did suffer a minor bump on the head. He lost consciousness for a little time. But other than that I feel he was quite lucky.” Still Aramis clucked over the small amount of blood on their youngest’s head. “I’ll fix him up as soon as we get back to the garrison.”

“I asked the boy if my hair turned white yet?” Athos told Aramis as he finally allowed himself to laugh over this entire mess.

“You do have a white streak just by your temple,” Aramis playfully teased.

“Well Porthos thinks his turned white as well,” Athos added.

Aramis pretended to examine Porthos’s hair when his big friend pushed him away.

As the other Musketeers headed home the inseparables, along with Rochefort, rode behind at a more leisurely pace with d’Artagnan sitting in front of Athos on Roger.

In all the excitement d’Artagnan hadn’t spotted his kitten anywhere. “Athos, where’s Masselin? Aramis said he was responsible for finding me. ”

“Look beside you,” Athos whispered, placing a light kiss on top of d'Artagan's head.

Glancing over to his left, d’Artagnan broke out into a wide grin as Masselin’s small body peeked out from between Porthos’s massive arms as they both rode on Roulette.

For now all was right in d’Artagnan’s world... until the next mishap.


	5. D'Artagnan in the Court of Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos runs out of babysitters and d'Art makes new friends.
> 
> ++++

*Porthos apartment*

Aside from the edict Treville gave them of being off the duty roster until such time that d’Artagnan returns to normal, things haven’t exactly worked out that way. Already the captain had needed them all for a short mission and now once again Treville sent Athos and Aramis on another assignment. You would have thought the garrison didn’t have any other Musketeers on hand. But it did rather make him and his friends feel indispensable or so Porthos thought.

So this time Porthos found himself having no one to hand off d’Artagnan too when he unexpectedly was told the king needed him on a hunt. “Damn bad timing!” he growled to himself. Even Treville and Rochefort were away on some secret mission together. Knowing how the king only wanted his best soldiers with him when he went on these hunts, Porthos knew he couldn’t refuse. Especially since Athos and Aramis were not around.

Watching d’Artagnan playing with the toys Aramis had brought for the child, Porthos tried to figure out someone trustworthy enough to leave him with. Then it came to him. Though he knew he would have the very devil to pay when Athos got wind of this and he hoped his friend didn’t. The king’s hunts have been known to last several days, but Porthos prayed it wouldn’t last that long so he could get back in time to gather d’Artagnan up before his friends got back. “D’Artagnan, how do you feel about paying a visit to Flea?”

*Court of Miracles*

“What have I become now a babysitter for you Musketeers?” Flea was a miffed that Porthos had come to her only needing a favor. “He is adorable though,” Flea sighed as she held out her arms for the youngster.

“His name’s Charlie,” Porthos’s rough voice softened as he saw how comfortable their youngest was as he had wrapped his arms around Flea’s neck, snuggling into her. Porthos felt that the lad probably missed snuggling with his mum.

“And how long do I have to do this?”

“I’m hoping the king’s hunt won’t last longer than a day, two at the most.”

“Well I’m sure I can find some playmates for Charlie here,” Flea’s eyes brightened at the thought that perhaps her time wouldn’t be completely taken up with the child.

Concerned at Flea’s idea Porthos frowned. He knew what type of children lived in the court and wasn’t sure they would make the best playmates for d’Artagnan. But he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Still he prayed all the harder that Athos and Aramis didn’t hear about this or his life wouldn’t be worth living for quite some time.

Giggling, d’Artagnan knew exactly what worried his friend. “Think not that I can’t handle myself here, Porthos?”

Taken aback, Porthos just stared at the boy surprised. The lad had a point. Like he and the others had talked about earlier, though small in stature it did not change d’Artagnan’s thought processes. Perhaps he would give the court urchins a run for their money. “Promise me not to cheat anyone playing cards.” He had taught the lad numerous tricks and didn’t want to hear about d’Artagnan landing in trouble without him around to defend the child.

A stubborn Gascon chin jutted out at the large Musketeer. “Would you want me to lie?”

Sighing Porthos knew that was about as far as he could push the lad. He lightly ran his hand through the child’s locks before leaving. “Be good if you can and I’ll bring ya a treat when I get back.”

“Like I was a little kid or something,” d’Artagnan muttered under his breath. Then he felt a light cuff to the back of his head and a rough voice in his ear reminding him that he was a kid. So d’Artagnan waved Porthos off as he watched his friend say goodbye to Flea.

“So, Charlie, want to come meet some of my little friends?” Flea held out her hand.

“I’m always ready for an adventure.” Trustingly d’Artagnan placed his hand in hers.

Bright laughter breezed past d’Artagnan’s head ruffling his hair as Flea’s amusement sailed over him.

“Adventure I doubt,” Flea scoffed lightly. “Usually people fear for their lives meeting them.” The youngster’s giggles to her remark made her lips twitch involuntarily. Something about this child reminded her of someone but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

They walked through the court with Flea talking to nearly everyone they passed on their way. She was clearly the woman in charge, especially since d’Artagnan knew Charon was dead and clearly out of the picture.

Finally they stopped in front of a small tent where four grubby street urchins stepped out of to greet Flea.

“Kids, I’ve someone for you to meet,” Flea gently pushed the boy forward. “This is Charlie, a friend of Porthos. You all remember him.” All the children nodded and stood silently before her. “He may be with us just for today, longer if necessary. We're not sure yet. But in the meantime do you mind letting him join you?”

“He looks all right to me,” the oldest piped up who appeared to be near the age of ten years and apparently the leader of this small clan. “Hi, I’m Auguste but mostly I’m called Auggy.”

“Pleased to meet you,” d’Artagnan grinned and held out his hand.

Stepping forward, a little girl nearer d’Artagnan’s age shyly smiled at him. “I’m Zalina or Lina if you prefer.”

D’Artagnan grinned and nodded at her. He couldn’t help but notice despite her rather ragged appearance Lina was cute.

“And I’m Gilles,“ he stepped forward and shook hands too. "You can call me Gilly,” he shrugged, “they all do.” Gilly was closer to Auggys age but deferred to the older boy in most things.

“Don’t forget me,” chirped a chubby boy. “Hi, I’m Roland or Rolly… whichever,” he laughed. He was only eight years old and usually the one that got picked on the most because of his size.

“Well, Charlie, think you’ll be okay if I leave you with them?” Flea heard the youngster snort and there was that reminder again that she knew this boy from somewhere.

“Of course.” D’Artagnan watched Flea walk away as he was left behind with his four new friends. “So what do you do around here for excitement?”

“Usually we rob poor unsuspecting slobs of their purses,” Auggy grinned devilishly.

This was the one to watch out for d’Artagnan warned himself. Looking forward to actually having some fun while visiting here, d'Artagnan hoped it was of the innocent variety.

Lina took his hand. “Let’s go to the docks.”

“There she goes again,” Gilly groaned. “Always wantin’ ta go down there.”

“She likes the way the water sparkles,” Rolly shot back. Daring the other boy to make fun of her.

“I like water too,” d’Artagnan remarked in defense of Lina and Rolly.

“Guess we go to the docks then.” Auggy started to walk ahead of the little group. “There’s gents down there with heavy purses just waitin’ to be lifted. Might as well do it there than in the streets of Paris.”

Thinking to himself, d’Artagnan wondered if Athos would mind him learning a new trade to add to his ever expanding repertoire.

++++

*The docks, just outside of the court*

While Lina stood at the edge of the docks fascinated by the way the sun’s rays danced on the water, d’Artagnan was sandwiched in-between Auggy and Gilly. He started to feel slightly claustrophobic as they were hiding behind some big barrels that were stacked on top of one another in a corner of the dock. “Is there a purpose to this?” he hissed. 

“Yeah,” Rolly snickered. “Auggy’s gonna lighten someone's pockets,” he laughed.

He couldn’t condone what Auggy was contemplating. So d’Artagnan tried to figure out a way to divert the other boy’s attention elsewhere. “Uh, Auggy, how about if we challenge one of those gents to a game of cards instead.” He figured it was better to have someone lose their money in a card game than to have it pinched.

Auggy’s mouth fell open. “That's somethin' I ain’t good at it.”

“But I am,” d’Artagnan boasted. He was going to play an honest game with whomever they picked out, but just then d’Artagnan saw an old sailor push Lina roughly aside making her stumble and nearly falling into the water. So much for wanting to do the right thing. He had just found his mark.

Remembering all the times he had watched Porthos cheat someone out of their money, d’Artagnan couldn’t wait to teach this man a lesson in humility. Though to give his friend his due, Porthos only tricked others when he knew someone else was a cheat. His friend even taught him how he did it. Athos wasn’t happy about that and voiced his opinion royally on the matter because he didn’t want d’Artagnan to become a card shark. Up until today d’Artagnan never really had an opportunity to use his knowledge. He looked forward to it.

“Charlie’s got a good idea, Auggy” Rolly agreed. “Let’s see what he can do.”

“First you’ve gotta have the cards,” Gilly pointed out with an eye roll.

“Actually,” d’Artagnan dug a deck out of his back pocket and held it up, “I have them with me.”

“Always carry a pack of cards do ya?” Auggy asked, thinking this newcomer was full of surprises.

Giggling, d’Artagnan nodded his head. “I never like to miss an opportunity.” Craning his neck, d’Artagnan saw the sailor sitting down on a lone crate. He prodded Auggy and pointed to his potential victim.

“All right then,” Auggy nodded in agreement and noticed that the man sat alone. “Since he nearly dunked Lina I think it only proper like we do him a bad turn.”

All the boys walked toward their unsuspecting target. D’Artagnan of course was in the lead. “Uh, sir, would you like to play a game of cards with me?”

“Huh?” the old sailor looked at the youngster and shook his head. “It wouldn’t be fair to you youngin’.”

“Don’t let my looks fool you. I know what I’m about,” d’Artagnan’s eyes sparkled.

“What are the stakes?” the sailor gruffly asked.

“Whatever you feel is fair,” d’Artagnan said as he felt Auggy nudge him in the back. Probably the other boy wanted him to play for a huge pot. But he only had a small sum on him and knew what he could bet until he won more back from the old man.

So for the next thirty minutes or so, d’Artagnan managed to wipe the floor with the sailor who couldn’t believe he lost to him. When the sailor walked away disgusted with himself, d'Artagnan counted his winnings and split it up five ways.

“Why five?” Rolly asked.

“Lina,” d’Artagnan nodded his head in her direction. “She is part of your group, right? Plus she’s the one that almost got drowned.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Gilly grumbled. He would have rather had a four way split. Lina wouldn’t have minded.

“Now what should we do next?” Rolly looked around for someone to have sport with. “Hey! That ship right yonder. Doesn’t seem to be any sign of life, eh?” he smirked. “We could have lots of fun on it.”

Not quite sure what type of fun they could get up to d’Artagnan followed along since he had nothing better to do. He thought perhaps he should make a different suggestion but not familiar with the court d’Artagnan honestly didn’t know what else there was to do here. Still, he wanted to be the voice of reason just in case. “We could get into a lot of trouble if we’re caught.”

“That’s half the fun,” Auggy brushed the other youngster’s worries aside. “Besides the sailors that come off those ships only have three things in mind and won't be back for a good long while."

Gilly snickered. “Yeah, getting drunk in one of the taverns, laying with a prostitute or losing their pay to us poor sots.”

“A very cynical outlook I must say,” d’Artagnan bit his lip and then felt someone cuff him on the back of the head. He whirled around expecting Porthos to be looming over him, instead he found Auggy staring at him in exasperation.

“You’ve been hanging around them Musketeers way too long,” Auggy snorted.

“All right then,” d’Artagnan grinned not wanting to become a wet blanket, “let’s have some fun.” He noticed Lina walking toward him smiling. “Want to play pirate?”

“You mean there are female pirates?” she breathed in excitedly. Never dreaming she could act out that fantasy.

“I’m sure there are a few out there,” d’Artagnan gave her a quick wink. “Be brave and become one if only for a short time.” He took her hand as he and the other boys walked up the gangplank. And true enough, once they were on board there wasn’t a soul in sight. D’Artagnan didn’t understand the mentality of abandoning a ship like this. Anyone could take off with it. For today though he wouldn’t worry anymore about what was right or wrong. He'd just enjoy the comradeship he found with these four.

++++

“Wheeeeee!” Lina screamed as she and d’Artagnan slid down a mast without breaking their necks.

Rolly and Gilly were fighting each other with wooden sticks they found on deck, pretending they were swords. While Auggy was barking out orders to an imaginary crew.

“You know I can show you two how to handle those sticks like they were the real thing,” d’Artagnan offered.

“How do you know so much?” Gilly seemed skeptical.

“Hanging around the Musketeer garrison like I have you pick up a few things,” d’Artagnan snorted. So he gave both Gilly and Rolly pointers and refereed their sparring until Auggy cried out.

“Gotta go! Enemy off the port bow!”

All the children immediately stopped their play and scrambled off the deck of the ship, nearly tripping over themselves as they tried to run over the gangplank.

Breathing hard from all her running, Lina’s face was alight with laughter as she finally stopped. “That was fun!”

“I agree.” D’Artagnan knew his hide would be turning red from Athos’s heavy hand on his butt if he ever found out what he did today.

As all the youngsters went back to the court they saw Flea and Porthos bearing down on them. The latter was wearing the fiercest of looks, enough so that all the children nearly froze in their tracks.

“Charlie, lad!” Porthos barked, “we’ve been lookin’ high and low for ya!”

“I’ve been having fun with my new friends.” D’Artagnan ran over to Porthos, dragging Lina along with him.”

“Hi, Lina,” Porthos bent down and pinched her cheek lightly. “Good to see you again.”

Smiling shyly at the huge Musketeer she ducked behind the other boys.

“You never change,” Porthos grinned at the little girl who peeked out at him from behind Gilly. Then leaning down Porthos whispered in d’Artagnan’s ear making the boy blush profusely. “You and the ladies, eh, laddie?” 

“She wasn’t shy on the ship,” d’Artagnan muttered to Auggy who snorted in turn.

“Ship?” Porthos glared d’Artagnan’s way. “What’s this about a ship?” He put his hands on his hips and loomed menacingly over all the boys.

“Ooops!” D’Artagnan saw his friends quickly abandon him to his fate as they waved goodbye to him, dragging a reluctant Lina along behind them.

“Flea, what the deuce have these kids been doin’?” Porthos growled in irritation. He had trusted her, but it seems his trust had been misplaced.

“I don’t have time to monitor their activities, Porthos,” Flea was annoyed at the way Porthos was acting toward her. “I left Charlie with them to play. That’s the beginning and the end of it as far as I’m concerned.” She eyed the boy up and down. “Looks to be all in one piece to me,” Flea shrugged. “That’s all anyone can ask livin’ in the court.”

“Porthos, all we did was play, honest,” d’Artagnan trying his best to work his doe eyes on the man. Luck though was a fickle thing as just at that moment the old sailor d’Artagnan had beaten at cards walked past them.

“Watch out for that youngin’,” the sailor warned as he wagged his finger at Porthos. “He’ll bleed ya dry.”

“Charlie, what’s this gent mean by that?” Porthos frowned deepened as he watched the boy squirm looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I played a few hands of cards with him,” d’Artagnan admitted reluctantly.

Slapping his forehead, Porthos hung his head shaking it. “You used those tricks I taught you, didn’t ya?”

“Uh huh.” D’Artagnan felt like a huge knot had formed in his stomach. Trying to change the subject he asked Porthos how the hunt with. "It's not even day's end and you're back. Did it not go well?"

"Nah! Her majesty took ill and we turned around and came back to the palace."

“Porthos,” Flea tugged on her former lover’s arm to get his attention.

“Yeah,” Porthos snapped at her. Their pryer acquaintance didn’t mean anything to him right now as d’Artagnan could have picked the wrong man to play cards with and could have ended up hurt or worse.

“I just heard some grumblings about children that were playing on a ship that was docked just outside the court.” Flea watched the youngster’s eyes widen in alarm. “Guess that would have been you five.”

“I’m gettin’ him outta here before Charlie picks up anymore bad habits,” Porthos shouted. “Thanks a lot for lookin’ after the lad,” his voice hung heavy with sarcasm, enough even for Flea to wince.

Never having Porthos that angry with her before made Flea uncomfortable and then she snapped back. “You make it sound like an accusation, Porthos.”

“Well ya make one lousy babysitter that’s for sure!” Porthos rolled his eyes as he lifted d’Artagnan in his arms.

“I can walk,” d’Artagnan protested.

“Want to make sure ya don’t land into anymore trouble on the way outta here,” Porthos grimaced. “Athos and Aramis will shoot me on sight if they find out what you’ve gotten up too.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” d’Artagnan’s eyes twinkled.

Porthos just grunted. 

“Porthos!” Flea called out as she realized why the boy reminded her of someone. Though she only met him once. His looks alone made him stand out. “When did d’Artagnan run into Martinique?” Seeing the shocked look on Porthos's face pretty much made her day as her laughter followed him all the way out of the court.

“Mon dieu!” Porthos glared at Flea as her amused laughter rang in his ears while she winked at d’Artagnan’s astonished face. Not bothering to answer her, Porthos headed down the narrow passages that made up the court as if the devil were on his heels... and perhaps he was.

++++

*Musketeer garrison*

Athos and Aramis had arrived back at the garrison long before Porthos and d’Artagnan had. There own mission hadn't lasted as long as they thought. So they found themselves back and relaxing with a glass of wine at Athos’s place.

As the unsuspecting twosome entered Athos’s rooms Porthos didn’t realize his friends were already there as he and the child made sure they were on the same page. “We are agreed then, d’Artagnan,” Porthos gave the boy a steely-eyed glare. “You won’t mention I left you with Flea and I won’t tell tales about your card playin’ and being on that ship.”

“Deal!” d’Artagnan nodded firmly as he and Porthos shook on it. Then they both nearly crawled out of their skins as a familiar voice came out of nowhere.

“Did I hear Flea mentioned?” Aramis casually strolled into the room. Casting his eyes on the guilty pair.

“Yes and I decidedly heard Porthos say that d’Artagnan was involved in a card game,” Athos tilted his head. “And something about being on a ship.” Athos stabbed Porthos with an *I want a full explanation now* look. “Why was d’Artagnan in Flea’s company?”

“I had to go on a hunt with his majesty and the captain’s away on business with Rochefort,” Porthos scratched absently at his chin. “After what happened last time with Serge I didn’t think that was a good option either,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have too many choices left.”

“There’s a story here,” Aramis appeared amused, especially seeing Porthos pinned under Athos’s black stare. “I am sure Porthos will kindly explain it to us in detail over a glass of wine.” Then he chuckled. “In d’Artagnan’s case a glass of milk would be preferable.” Seeing their youngster scowl, Aramis held back his mirth.

“You could have gone to Constance,” Athos raised his brow.

“The way those two left things I didn’t feel comfortable enough askin’ her. Besides,” Porthos said gruffly, “she’d be askin’ too many questions I couldn’t answer.”

“He has a point,” Aramis smiled at the grim mask Athos wore.

“Uh can I go to the stables and see to Zad while you all talk this out?” D’Artagnan didn’t want to be anywhere near here when Porthos had to admit to the others what he’d been up to.

“Need to escape us, eh?” Aramis knew their young one was nervous as the boy shifted from foot to foot.

“D’Artagnan,” Athos motioned for the child to come over to him. “Be truthful with us.”

“Okay. I made four friends at the court and had some fun.”

“I know there's more to it than that.” Athos was almost afraid to hear the rest.

Glancing back at Porthos, d’Artagnan sent him a helpless look as if to say *what can I do?*. Seeing his best friend and mentor upset with him, d’Artagnan knew he couldn’t lie to him. “I played cards with a sailor and later played on a ship at the docks.”

Closing his eyes, covering them with a hand, Athos moaned softly. Lifting his head back up he locked his fierce blue gaze on Porthos. 

“Who won the card game?” Aramis was curious as he noticed another guilty look cross the boy’s features.

“Me,” d’Artagnan’s gaze shifted to the floor.

“Was cheating involved?” Athos dared to ask, knowing what the answer would ultimately be.

“There may have been some,” d’Artagnan hedged but knew he was caught like a fly in a trap. Hearing Athos swear softly didn’t help his nerves any either.

“What is this business about you being on a ship?” Athos growled. He didn't know why he persisted in finding out anything further knowing it would only lead to him getting an ulcer.

“Well we pretended we were on a pirate ship…” d’Artagnan didn’t finish as Athos raised a hand for him to stop. The man looked ready to explode.

“I do not want to hear anything further,” Athos calmed himself down and looked d’Artagnan right in the eyes. “We are apparently going to endure the longest seven days in history until our dear boy becomes nineteen once again,” he sighed defeated. “D’Artagnan should not be left to his own devices for long in the meantime.”

“He had Flea with em’,” Porthos growled.

“Like I said... left to his own devices,” Athos repeated dryly with yet another glare in d’Artagnan’s direction.

Wondering if he should mention what Flea said, d’Artagnan felt it couldn’t make things any worse. Then again he has been known to be wrong. “Before we left Flea realized who I was.”

Falling down into his chair, Athos looked ill. 

“Apparently Martinique is known to the court,” Porthos exchanged a wry look with Aramis.

“Let’s not even travel down that road,” Aramis suggested. “This was supposed to be a happy time for Athos and d’Artagnan. So from this point on if there are any missions that come up unexpectedly again Porthos and I will attend.”

Jumping into Athos’s lap, d’Artagnan hugged him. “Don’t be mad. That man deserved to lose his money. He nearly pushed Lina over the dock.”

“A Musketeer to the end, eh?” Athos chuckled and held the boy close. God save him from d’Artagnan’s sense of righteousness it might be the death of him yet.


	6. Picnics, Bandits and Raids… Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title says (grins)
> 
> ++++

*Athos’s apartment*

“Why can’t I go back to the Court of Miracles again?” d’Artagnan practically whined while he played with his wooden, toy sword aiming it at Aramis who was defending himself against his attack.

“I do believe you have done enough damage over there for now,” Athos sent a mild look of reproach toward the boy that made d’Artagnan take a vicious swipe at Aramis instead.

Yelping in surprise, Aramis grabbed at his leg. “D’Artagnan, if you’re upset with Athos take it out on him… not me.” He rubbed at the tender spot the boy had took a whack at. “I’m lucky that didn’t tear through the cloth.”

“Sorry, Aramis.” D’Artagnan went over to his friend to look at his leg. “Does it hurt?”

Huffing and rolling his eyes Aramis picked the boy up. “What if I said yes?”

Wrapping his small arms around the Musketeer’s neck, d’Artagnan placed a soft kiss on the man’s cheek. “My maman always told me to kiss the hurts away and they will feel better.”

And maman’s are always correct,” Aramis kissed the tip of d’Artagnan’s nose in return.

“All this drama because the lad can’t go visit his new friends,” Porthos snorted.

Crossing over to where Aramis stood, Athos plucked the boy out of his friend’s arms. “I think Auggy, Gilly, Rolly and Lina will live on in your memory for some time to come, d’Artagnan,” he sighed wearily as the youngster laid his head on Athos’s shoulder. “I don’t believe even the entire Musketeer regiment could keep all five of you out of trouble for long if I let you go back there.”

“But I had fun,” d’Artagnan gave Athos his famous pout which didn’t even make a dent in the older man’s attitude.

“Perhaps *you* did, but if I had been there my heart wouldn’t have been able to handle the strain,” Athos gave the youngster his patented glare. Even though d’Artagnan seemed about to commit mutiny.

“Maybe Martinique should have had you revisit your childhood, Athos,” d’Artagnan retorted.

“Mon dieu!” Porthos barked. “What a thought that is! A mini Athos running amuck,” he laughed jovially.

“Indeed,” Aramis mused as he too pictured a little Athos ordering everyone about. “Doesn’t bear thinking on,” he shuddered.

“Well since going back to the court is out of the question what can we do today, Athos?” D’Artagnan was back on the floor again this time threatening to skewer Porthos with his toy sword.

“You know, lad, you’re right wicked with that piece of wood,” Porthos grinned.

“If we’re not careful we might all end up in the infirmary with cuts from that stick just because d’Artagnan’s bored,” Aramis glanced over at Athos’s stern expression.

“Really,” Athos remarked dryly, giving Aramis a look that usually had others running in the other direction.

Grinning like an idiot, Aramis chuckled knowing that look didn’t work with him or Porthos. “Are you gently reminding me to shut up?”

“Hmmpf!” Athos felt that Aramis acted more the child than d’Artagnan at times.

“I’ve an idea,” Porthos said while he laid on the floor with a victorious d’Artagnan on top of him waving his toy sword in the air. “Think we could wheedle Serge into making up a large picnic basket for us?”

Snapping his fingers Aramis agreed. “What a delightful idea. It’s a beautiful day outside too.”

“With our luck it will rain the minute we step out,” Athos muttered.

“Kill joy,” Porthos growled as he rough housed with their youngest.

“Fine!” Athos threw up his hands in surrender. “We will go with your idea then, Porthos. Go on and see if Serge will oblige us.”

“Right on it.” Making sure d’Artagnan didn’t hurt himself as the boy rolled off him, Porthos got to his feet. “Ya know if I take our young one with us we might stand a better chance of twisting Serge’s arm.”

“Ah! Guilt trip the poor man,” Aramis laughed. “That’ll work.”

“Yeah, after what happened last time I shouldn’t have any problem but just in case,” Porthos winked at d’Artagnan.

“I promise to do everything Porthos tells me too,” d’Artagnan worked his doe eyes on Athos until his friend rolled his own eyes.

“Serge will cave in under a minute if our young pup gives him the same treatment he does us,” Aramis snickered.

“All right,” Athos said seeing as he was outnumbered. “Porthos, make sure not to let go of d’Artagnan at any cost.”

D’Artagnan’s little face screwed up at Athos’s words of warning to Porthos. He was tempted to stick his tongue out at him, but one look at Porthos slowly shaking his head at him made d’Artagnan quickly change his mind. Choose your battles wisely Athos once told him. Well he could wait.

Watching them leave Athos glared at Aramis as the other man sat back in a chair, legs on the table while he fiddled with the rim of his hat. “Picnic?”

“It’s what one does when children get bored and a parent doesn’t know what else to do with them,” Aramis shrugged.

“Parent,” Athos nearly choked on the word.

“Or a reasonable facsimile thereof,” Aramis grinned.

++++

“Serge would you be so kind as to prepare a picnic lunch for the four of us?” Porthos held d’Artagnan’s hand tightly as he could feel the boy wanting to bolt away from him. He noticed the lad eyeing the freshly baked pastries just out of the oven, cooling on a rack.

Seeing the time, Serge grunted his consent. “Aye,” he smiled down at the boy. “Just finished serving breakfast to that lot of Musketeers that barreled in here earlier.” He winked at the child. “Anything to make up for last time, eh?”

“Thanks, Serge,” d’Artagnan smiled, flashing his big puppy eyes at the older man.

“I’ll put something together and will have it sent over to Athos shortly.”

“Our thanks,” Porthos nodded and started to herd d’Artagnan out the door until the lad tugged on his hand. “What is it now?”

“Want to see if Serge will let me have a pastry before we go.”

“They do look right tasty, but it will spoil your lunch if you ate it now.”

“Not if we split it between us, eh, Porthos?” 

It didn’t take long for Porthos to agree whenever food is mentioned. So they both walked back over to where the sweets were cooling. 

“Uh, Serge, might we take just one for the road?” Porthos lifted d’Artagnan up in his arms so the lad could reach the rack. He was sure Serge would not deny them the treat.

“Just one mind you,” Serge smiled at them as he handed a nice fat cherry tart to the boy.

“Our thanks,” Porthos beamed as he and d’Artagnan each took half and ate it on their way out.

++++

*Athos’s apartment*

“Ooooh! It’s huge!” d’Artagnan squealed in delight. “Athos come!”

“It’s going to take a cart to haul that load,” Aramis noted.

“It would seem this is Serge’s way of apologizing,” Athos smiled as he noticed three bottles of wine sticking out of the basket. Definitely not for the boy. 

“I’ll arrange for the cart,” Porthos offered and went out to the stables.

“Athos,” d’Artagnan tugged on his friend’s arm, “it will be fun. You’ll see.”

Ruffling the child’s hair Athos hoped for all concerned that’s all it would turn out to be.

++++

Of course things never are that simple for them. After they picked out a beautiful spot in a nearby forest outside Paris, they enjoyed the fruits of Serge’s labor and indulged themselves with food and wine. D’Artagnan, once again, had to settle for milk.

Dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, Aramis laid back on their blanket and sighed, extremely contented. “That was a most sumptuous lunch.” 

“What makes it better is that no one’s shootin’ at us either,” Porthos grinned.

“That too,” Aramis laughed in agreement while soaking up the sunshine. Hearing d’Artagnan’s giggles he watched as the boy and Athos played hide and seek again. It seemed to be their young one’s favorite game of late. “I’m tired just watching them do that.”

“You’re just a lazy bones, admit it,” Porthos snorted as watched the antics of their youngster.

++++

As d’Artagnan was trying to find the perfect hiding spot he nearly stumbled into a camp that had been set up. Being small helped in that no one spotted him hiding behind some brush. Being this close he was able to overhear two men talking. And what he heard disturbed him greatly.

“When are we going in?”

“As soon as the others return.”

“How we gonna hit the garrison?”

“Don’t know til he gets here. He’s out scoutin’ now with the rest of the men.

“Can’t wait to get rid of them Musketeer scum and if any of those Red Guards decide to join em' I’ll gladly take my sword and pistol to them as well.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Garrison,” d’Artagnan whispered to himself. He needed to locate Athos immediately and inform him of this. Running frantically as fast as his small legs could take him he all but ran into Athos’s solid form.

“I thought the idea was for you to run away from *me*?” Athos arched one eyebrow, hand on hips as he stared down into d’Artagnan’s anxious eyes. Instantly he knew all was not right. Kneeling down he asked, “What is it? Are you hurt?” His eyes skimmed over the child and couldn’t see anything obviously wrong with the youngster.

Quickly giving Athos the details of what he had heard d’Artagnan felt himself airborne. Athos picked him up and ran with him back to where they left their friends.

++++

Aramis and Porthos were still soaking up the afternoon’s rays as Athos burst through the brush with d’Artagnan clinging to him.

“Heads up!” Athos barked. “D’Artagnan nearly stumbled into a camp of possible bandits and heard some unsettling news that affects the garrison. We must leave immediately!”

They mounted there horses quickly and on the ride back to Paris Athos filled his friends in on what d’Artagnan found out. “We’ll have to prepare for a siege since we do not know how many are involved in this plot.”

“D’Artagnan, you didn’t hear anymore than that?” Aramis asked as he rode beside them. Amused by the way their youngest was comfortably settled in front of Athos.

“They were waiting for more men to return,” d’Artagnan frowned. “Perhaps I should have stayed and listened longer.”

“Non!” Athos shouted. “You could have been caught.”

Paling, the large Musketeer just realized how close to danger the lad had been. “You find trouble, you do,” Porthos growled.

Pouting, d’Artagnan huffed in annoyance. “Would you have rather I *not* heard anything?”

“Give way, Porthos, you won’t win this argument,” Aramis chuckled despite the severity of the situation.

Urging their horses faster they managed to arrive back at the garrison in record time. As they passed through the gates d’Artagnan cried out.

“Oh no! We left the cart behind. If they find it they’ll know someone was nearby.”

“I doubt it,” Athos replied. “They had more important matters on their mind. If they would come across it eventually they would think it was left behind by some farmer.”

“If you say so,” d’Artagnan sounded like he doubted Athos’s words which caused Porthos to give a great bark of laughter. Earning a severe scowl from Athos.

“The imp had more respect for Athos’s knowledge when he was nineteen. Where did it go to?” Aramis quipped.

“Before this conversation deepens into the insensible let us go report to Treville now!” Athos ordered as Porthos dismounted from Roulette to reach out for d’Artagnan.

Walking up the stairs to the captain’s office, d’Artagnan in the lead, all three men couldn’t help but smile as the little boy’s mumblings floated back to them.

“Never a dull moment around here, even when on a picnic.”

++++

*Captain Treville’s office*

Without thinking they didn’t bother to knock and stepped inside the captain’s office only to stop dead as realization hit them. It would seem that they had just interrupted a meeting between Treville and Comte Rochefort.

“Apologies, sir,” Athos said at once as he noticed Rochefort’s angry blue eyes flash at him in irritation. The captain didn’t seem pleased to see them either for that matter. “Before you reprimand us I have something of great urgency to report.”

“Proceed,” Treville glanced at the comte. “Or do we need to discuss this privately?”

“Non!” Glancing down at d’Artagnan’s worried face, Athos cleared his throat and continued. “As you were aware we were picnicking outside in the forest and during that time discovered plans were afoot in regards to a raid on our garrison.”

“How did you come by this information?” Treville asked as he stepped around his desk.

“When Charlie and I were playing a game of hide and seek he overheard men talking about it.”

“I would like to know how he happened on them,” Rochefort added as he observed the little boy move closer to Athos’s side.

“During our game when I went to hide I nearly ran into this camp where two men were talking about hitting the garrison.”

“Do we know when?” Rochefort asked him.

“They didn’t seem to know that themselves. They were waiting for someone to return whom I assumed was there leader to fill them in,” d’Artagnan looked at everyone’s concerned expressions. “I didn’t hang around for fear of being discovered and went to Athos straight away.”

“Good thinking, son,” Treville smiled at him.

“Captain, what are your orders?” Athos waited as Treville and Rochefort decided on a course of action.

“Since we don’t have much to go on I’ll have the entire Musketeer regiment on standby,” Treville stated.

“And I’ll have the Red Guards on top of things as well,” Rochefort nodded as he strode out. As he made to pass by the youngster he couldn’t resist ruffling the child’s hair. “You did good, Charlie.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Things happen around you, d’Artagnan,” Treville said after Rochefort had left. “I don’t know whether to be happy or terrified about it.”

“Ummmm, where do I go while you’re defending the garrison, Athos?”

“This is becoming an all too familiar conversation of late,” Porthos snorted, crossing his arms as someone made a decision about it.

“He can stay with Queen Anne.” Treville noted the shock reflected on his men’s faces but d’Artagnan was all smiles.

“She’s heard about Charlie’s circumstances and has been after me about meeting him,” Treville supplied.

“But, sir, this really doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Athos pointed out. Thinking of all the things that could go wrong and usually did around their youngest.

“You have a better one?” Treville fired back.

“Not at the moment,” Athos hated to admit.

“Give him to me and I’ll be back shortly,” Treville demanded, trying to make it not sound like an order, but his best soldiers knew he meant business.

“D’Artagnan,” Athos picked the youngster up in his arms and was about to give him a litany of things not to do when in the queen’s company but d’Artagnan placed his little fingers against Athos’s lips.

“I do know how to behave properly when in her Majesty’s presence,” d’Artagnan remarked wryly.

Placing a kiss on d’Artagnan’s brow, Athos chuckled. “Putting me in my place, eh, pup?”

“Did it work?” D’Artagnan quirked a small eyebrow at him which had everyone in the room laughing at his action.

++++

The attack, when it came, was short lived as Musketeers and Red Guards alike stood side by side to defend the garrison. For if the enemy got past the king’s finest they all knew the palace would be next on the agenda.

Later, after bodies were cleared away and survivors sent to the Bastille, the three inseparables took leave of each other to go to their respective homes to clean up.

Later a knock on Athos’s door had the Musketeer rushing to answer it. He was pleased to find d’Artagnan in Captain Treville’s arms giggling from something the captain apparently just told him. Leaning against the door jam Athos’s lips quirked upward. “Did her Majesty survive our little whirlwind?”

“Actually we might have another problem on our hands,” Treville said as he walked past Athos.

“How so?” Athos observed d’Artagnan as the captain put the boy down. The youngster didn’t appear too concerned over whatever it was Treville had to say so Athos decided not to worry himself overmuch.

“Queen Anne wants to adopt me if my parents cannot be found,” d’Artagnan grinned at the look of horror that covered Athos’s face.

“But this... this is all a charade!” Athos sputtered.

“She doesn’t know that,” Treville snapped, not pleased at all.

“When the time comes for d’Artagnan to revert back to his true self we’ll tell the queen that Charlie’s parents were found and he was returned to them.” Athos wondered how things could go sideways so quickly.

“Not that simple,” d’Artagnan added with a shake of his head. “She wants to meet them before I’m handed back over to their care.”

“Mon dieu! This is really too much to deal with,” Athos complained and watched as his captain and d’Artagnan’s faces changed. “What? Don’t tell me there’s more?”

“Unfortunately there is,” Treville pulled a face. “In the meantime Queen Anne wants d’Artagnan to stay with her until that happy event takes place,” he sighed and glanced at the youngster as he stood near Athos.

“So much for you and I to have more time together, eh?” Both Athos and d’Artagnan rested their foreheads against one another as they tried to formulate a plan.


	7. D’Artagnan’s Time at the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D'Art and her Majesty try to bond.
> 
> Note: this takes place way, way before Aramis slept with the queen the episode 'Knight Takes Queen'. I'm mentioning this because of something Porthos refers to in this chapter, so no one gets confused (grins).
> 
> ++++

*Porthos’s apartment*

After Captain Treville had left them, Athos and d’Artagnan decided that if they were to formulate a plan it would work better when everyone was together so they left Athos’s place and collecting Aramis along the way ended up knocking on Porthos’s door.

Sitting at the table d'Artagnan repeated his explanation again to both Aramis and Porthos, filling them in on the queen’s plans for him. Resting against the back of his chair he folded his arms and waited for a brilliant idea to come forth from one of his friends. He waited... and waited… but all he noted were blank faces. “What? No words of wisdom?” D’Artagnan’s lower lip jutted out as his face became pensive. “Well this is just unacceptable!”

Porthos snorted quietly at d'Artagnan's outburst, sounding so much like his older self that it was damn right eerie.

“What about imploring to the queen that Charlie’s more comfortable with Athos at this juncture and that he’d rather stay with him.” Aramis nodded thinking his plan was rather sound in theory.

“I wouldn’t bank on her buyin’ into that,” Porthos frowned, having no suggestion come to mind.

“Hang on,” Athos interrupted with a wink in d'Artagnan's direction. “Charlie could tell her Majesty what Aramis suggested up to a point. He could then offer to stay with her for part of the day and spend the rest of his time with me.”

“And you’ll keep this up til our boy turns into his true age again?” Porthos questioned, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Yes,” d’Artagnan agreed smiling at Athos and Aramis’s plan. “Then we’ll have to tell a good whopping lie as to why she didn’t get to meet Charlie’s parents before he left with them.”

“One trouble at a time if you please,” Athos snorted. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Amen,” Aramis laughed and held up his glass of wine.

++++

*Next day at the palace*

“So you see, your Majesty I don’t mind spending time here with you, but I am more comfortable with Athos,” d’Artagnan worked his puppy eyes on Queen Anne until she capitulated with the idea. Holding out her hand to him, d’Artagnan took it gently.

Glancing at Captain Treville who had escorted the boy to her, Queen Anne nodded at him. “It is all right, Captain. Charlie will stay with me for most of the afternoon and then you may return him to Athos's care.” 

“As you please, your Majesty.” With a smile aimed at the boy, Treville smoothed d'Artagan's bangs from his forehead. Leaning down he whispered, "It's a wonder you can see through all that hair in your eyes." Eyes sparkling, Treville turned smartly leaving everyone behind. 

Now that she had the youngster to herself Anne wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. It all sounded well and good to her when she first thought about having the boy stay with her, however now Anne seemed unsure of herself. Glancing apprehensively at Michelle, one of her ladies-in-waiting, she hoped to have help from that quarter.

“Do you have any toys for him to play with?” Michelle asked Queen Anne. For if not, she thought, they were in trouble.

“No,” Anne had not quite thought through her idea when she posed it to Captain Treville. Now she could understand why Charlie bonded with the famous Musketeer so much. Her eyes fell to her basket of knitting and an idea came to her.

++++

*Late afternoon, garrison courtyard*

“She had you doing what?’ Athos thought he had misheard d’Artagnan.

“Queen Anne knits and I sat beside her with both my hands held out while she wrapped her yarn around them," d'Artagnan huffed gently. "Then she proceeded to knit.

“Oh my, poor child,” Aramis choked out hiding his face with one hand while Porthos bellowed his laughter for all to hear.

“Apparently the good woman never heard of toys,” Athos put aside the pistol he had been cleaning.

“Her heart’s in the right place,” Aramis added with a shy smile d’Artagnan’s way.

"I find it hard to believe you could sit patiently that whole time," Athos commented with a wry look at the boy.

"What else was I to do?" D'Artagnan sent Athos a foul look.

“Don't tell me that's all ya did?” Porthos knew that if it were him he would have been bored to tears. "I mean, what could top knitting, eh?" He was pleased he jested about it seeing a small smile from their youngster sneak out.

“We walked through the gardens,” d’Artagnan grinned. “That was much more entertaining than holding her yarn."

“I bet,” Porthos snickered.

“Non. It was,” d’Artagnan had a wicked light in his eyes.

“What... did... you... do?” Athos dragged the words out for emphasis waiting to hear the worst.

Giggling, d’Artagnan covered his mouth. Collecting himself he explained what transpired next. “We stumbled across a palace cook and one of the maids locked in a torrid tryst,” he giggled again. “Queen Anne tried to cover my eyes but it was too late. I thought Lady Michelle was going to faint from the shock.”

“Are you telling us those two were stupid enough to do that on palace grounds where God and country could see them?” Athos’s voice went up several octaves.

“Or queen and country,” d’Artagnan quipped, his eyes dancing. “I told her Majesty not to worry about it because I’ve seen it all before.”

Slapping a hand to his forehead Athos cried out. “Mon dieu!” He then proceeded to bang his head on the bench top.

“You didn’t really say that... did you?’ Aramis thought the youngster was having them on. 

“Yep! I really did,” d’Artagnan heard Porthos’s snort of laughter and felt like joining in except the looks Athos were sending him quelled his impishness.

“Queen Anne is gonna wonder about the lack of parenting control the lad’s had.” Porthos commented.

“She might not want to give the boy back to those non-existent parents after his remark to her,’ Aramis added.

“Please,” Athos growled, “do go on.”

Knowing they just made matters worse with what they said, both Porthos and Aramis became quiet. Still they couldn’t help smiling at d’Artagnan’s amused features.

“After the queen reprimanded the couple severely she quickly ushered me out of there,” d’Artagnan added.

“Where was King Louie during all this drama?” Athos asked, not sure if he wanted or needed to know.

“Talking politics with some visiting dignitaries,” d’Artagnan replied in a bored tone. “It’s always politics or so Queen Anne says. I think she’s unhappy.”

“Arranged marriages sometimes work out that way,’ Aramis remarked softly. “She’s lonely.” Seeing the heated gaze Porthos sent his way, Aramis pulled his hat lower on his head.

“What did I tell ya about aiming your sights a might lower,” Porthos growled into Aramis’s ear.

Sending his large friend a hurt look, Aramis shook his head at him. “I haven’t been near her since that Vadim affair when she gave me that cross to wear.”

“Keep it that way,” Athos added.

Surprised, Aramis stared between the two men then focused the rest of his attention on Porthos. “What did you tell him?”

“Just that looks were exchanged between the pair of ya,” Porthos shrugged.

Not understanding the undercurrents of his friend’s conversation, d’Artagnan had more to say. “I did have an interesting visit with Comte Rochefort.”

“Ah! It would seem that you have endeared yourself to the man,” Aramis toyed with his dagger.

“He likes *Charlie*,” d’Artagnan clarified.

“Semantics, dear boy,” Aramis grinned.

“So what happened when Rochefort arrived, lad?” Porthos picked up an apple and began cutting it with his knife, handing a slice to their young one.

“Thanks,” d’Artagnan popped it into his mouth and quickly ate it. “Well I don’t think the queen fully recovered from what happened in the gardens. She still appeared flustered when the comte stopped by. I think he took pity on her not knowing what else to do with me. The queen definitely seemed relieved when Rochefort told her he’d take me with him on his rounds.”

“He did what?” Athos slammed his pistol hard on the bench top.

“It was all good,” d’Artagnan held up his hands. “Nothing scary or dangerous to me. He held my hand the entire time we inspected his Red Guards.” Lowering his voice, d’Artagnan’s eyes twinkled. “Personally I think Rochefort was a bit upset with his men today.”

A bark of laughter from Porthos was followed by Aramis’s amused snort. While Athos’s shoulders shook in silent laughter though it was against his better judgment.

“I think he would have had harsher words for his men but refrained because I was with him.”

“Oh, d’Artagnan,” Athos smiled at his very little friend, “you tend to bring out only the best in everyone around you.”

“How about when I was bigger?”

“Er, now that’s debatable,” Athos stifled a grin as he noted the crestfallen look on d’Artagnan’s small face.

“I say,” Aramis glared at Athos, “that wasn’t nice at all.”

“He’s just funnin’ our lad,” Porthos winked at the boy and leaned over to ruffle d'Artagnan's already unruly hair.

“Hey, Athos!” Rene called out as he approached the bench where they were all gathered. “This was delivered from the palace for you.” He handed Athos a letter with the king’s seal on it.”

“My thanks, Rene.” Athos waited until Rene was done having a few words with their youngster and opened the letter after the Musketeer had left. He read its contents quickly then folded it neatly, tucking it into his jacket pocket. “It would seem that Queen Anne has changed her mind.”

“What about, Athos.” D’Artagnan sat down beside him.

Putting his arm across the child’s shoulders Athos hugged d’Artagnan to his side, tweaking the little one’s nose. “I guess the queen realized that she has no experience dealing with children and has given leave for you to stay with me full-time until your *parents* are found.”

“Ya mean until d’Artagnan’s changed back,” Porthos snickered.

“That too,” Athos grinned. But he was surprised in d’Artagnan’s reaction. Instead of seeing a happy face the child was frowning fiercely. “Why are you not pleased?”

“I enjoyed running around the palace,” d’Artagnan pouted. “It sure beats guarding it.”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Aramis chuckled.

“Heads up! Rochefort, twelve o’clock,” Porthos announced roughly.

“Gentlemen,” Rochefort acknowledged everyone and than sat down beside d’Artagnan.

“Do join us,” Athos remarked wryly.

“I thought I just did,” Rochefort smirked.

Giggling, d’Artagnan watched the play of emotions on his friend's faces with avid interest. He was particularly amused by the staring competition going on between his mentor and Rochefort.

“Since no one’s going to ask I will,” Aramis cleared his throat. “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure of your company?”

Observing the child beside him, Rochefort’s gaze softened. “How were any of you going to get away with explaining to her Majesty why you didn’t present Charlie’s parents to her when he eventually disappears?"

“Who says we aren’t?” Porthos fired back.

“Because there are *no* parents,” Rochefort arched one eyebrow as he stared at the three Musketeers. “Just as there is *no* Charlie.”

“I’m right here,” d’Artagnan piped up.

“So you are... d’Artagnan.’ Rochefort chuckled at the stunned expressions on all their faces. “It didn’t take me all that long to put two and two together until they equaled Martinique.”

“Does everyone know that damn woman except us?’ Athos barked.

“Should I answer that question?” Rochefort grinned slyly. He waited a moment and when nothing else was said to that he turned to d’Artagnan. “I assume your change is only temporary?”

“Yes,” d’Artagnan nodded. “I have until the end of this week.”

“Martinique is a woman of unusual talents. She only interferes when she feels it is needed.” Rochefort smiled ruefully. “So I suppose she felt a *need* within you somewhere.”

“Comte, how did you guess he was actually d’Artagnan? You never knew him as a little boy." Aramis was a keen study of human nature but even he would have been hard pressed to believe the youngster before them was actually his nineteen year old brother in arms just by a glance. After talking with d’Artagnan, listening to the things the boy knew and said about he and his brothers, that was the deciding factor that made him truly believe the child's story. But Rochefort was fed nothing but lies since this all began and still the man saw through the ruse. Aramis didn't know whether to admire that in Rochefort's character or to be extremely wary.

“The same feisty spirit of fair play but without the sword,” Rochefort’s lips twitched. “And if one really looks closely at the child you can see the resemblance to the man he was before,” he sighed. “Plus there’s the little fact that all of you were acting suspiciously," he shrugged, "even Treville by saying that d’Artagnan would be gone a week at least.”

“Why? Was that part so unbelievable?” Porthos asked.

“None of you appeared worried at that news,” Rochefort grinned. “The way you four all look out for one another and yet you weren’t concerned that your young pup was all alone,” he held out his hand. “Then the final telling factor was the route d’Artagnan had taken on his way home. I knew it was close to where Martinique lived,” Rochefort looked at each of the inseparables in turn. “Do the math... I did.”

“Why have you been so nice to our lad if you’ve known all along who he really was?” Porthos was interested to hear the man’s answer. Especially since he represented the Red Guards.

“I’ve never hidden the fact that I admire d’Artagnan’s many talents and would,” shooting Athos a sharp look, “if the opportunity ever arose I'd steal the boy away from the Musketeers and make him my lieutenant.”

“Mon dieu!” Aramis glanced at their young one. “Lieutenant, eh? Well why not? I can see it happening in the future but not lieutenant of the Red Guards,” he scoffed.

“So you are fond of our young pup,” Athos noted and ran his hand playfully through d’Artagnan’s hair.

Pulling away from his friend’s hand, d’Artagnan stood up. Looking Rochefort’s way he grimaced. “Those seven days better hurry up before someone else realizes who I am.”

Standing back up, Rochefort held out his hand to the boy. “Feel like attending while I dress down a few of my men... again.”

“You've found more that have displeased you today?” D’Artagnan appeared the picture of innocence as he posed that question, remembering his time with the comte earlier that day.

“Let’s say they were a bit slipshod in letting the cook and the maid slip past them unnoticed.”

"If blame is to go around," Athos pointed out, "we might as well include members of Des Essart's company who should have prevented that from happening as well."

"Just so," Rochefort accepted Athos's round about apology with aplomb.

“I wondered when you'd hear about that,” d’Artagnan laughed.

“I will admit to being somewhat baffled as to why our young queen seemed out of sorts when I had visited earlier," Rochefort looked down at the boy. “I also heard about your remarks on the matter,” he chided. “Really, d’Artagnan... *you’ve seen it all before*?”

Bursts of laughter surrounded him and d’Artagnan turned beet red. “Well I have!” he stamped both his small feet, kicking dirt up in the process which made him start coughing. Rochefort patted him on the back a few times and when d'Artagnan had it under control he glared at all of them sternly. Pouting, he took the comte's hand and as he walked away from the table he heard his three friends laughing all the harder.


	8. D’Artagnan and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a suggestion by Sigmund, She had gone to see Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day and wondered how d'Art would have handle it.  
> I have not seen the movie but went to the website and there were phrases all over it which I have used in my story here. Some I have changed to a small degree. These could have even been used in the movie for all I know. Thought they added a little something to my story though. That's why I included them.
> 
> ++++

*Athos’s apartment, early morning*

“D’Artagnan!” Athos roared.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes d’Artagnan trailed slowly into the outer room where Athos was throwing toys in a crate. “What’s wrong?”

“I damn well tripped over your toys that’s what’s wrong!” Athos snapped. “Nearly broke my neck in the process,” he glared at the youngster. “You can’t leave your things all over the place, little man.”

“Since I won’t be a *little man* much longer you shouldn’t have to worry about it!” d’Artagnan retorted in a huff. “What a beautiful start for the day” he grumbled under his breath, stomping back off to his room to change since he was still In his nightshirt.

++++

While waiting for d’Artagnan to dress so they could have some breakfast together, there was a knock on the door. When Athos answered it, a very upset Aramis brushed past him.

“Where is he?” Aramis’s sharp eyes roamed all over the room.

“If by *he* you mean d’Artagnan,” Athos said dryly, “the boy’s in his room getting dressed.” He wondered what could have put Aramis in such a foul mood this early. At least he didn’t have to worry about tripping over toys.

“Remember that new hat I bought because my old one was riddled with bullet holes?”

“Yes, but I see you’re still favoring the old one since you are currently wearing it.”

“The reason for that is my new one has sticky little fingerprints all over it!” Aramis fumed.

“And this is d’Artagnan’s fault how?”

“Last night when we all went out to eat d’Artagnan wanted pancakes with syrup, remember?”

Light began to dawn for Athos as he closed his eyes briefly as if he were in pain. “Do carry on.”

“I remember later letting our boy play with my new hat not realizing his little fingers were drenched in syrup,” Aramis growled. “I wasn’t paying attention last night, but the lad must have been eating his pancakes without a fork.”

“So far d’Artagnan’s two for two and we haven’t even left these rooms yet,” Athos murmured.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I nearly took a header tripping over the lad’s toys and things a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, the joy of child rearing,” Aramis chuckled, momentarily forgetting his own problems.

“Do not worry so, mon ami, I shall purchase a new one for you,” Athos held up his hand to stall off any argument his friend would give him on the matter. “You know I can afford it.”

“I don’t know why I’m so mad about it,” Aramis said. “At least I wasn’t chosen to re-visit my own childhood the way our young one was,” he smiled. “I guess I should cut d’Artagnan some slack, eh?”

"It might save you from getting an ulcer from over worrying," Athos commented as he noticed their lad emerge from his bedroom.

Dragging himself out, d’Artagnan broke into a pleased smile when he saw Aramis. “Bonjour!”

Deciding not to say anything to upset the boy, Aramis put on a happy face and ruffled d’Artagnan’s hair.

“Aramis, why are you wearing your old hat?” Staring at the various holes in it d’Artagnan winced realizing how close his friend had come to being seriously hurt while on missions for the king.

Aramis’s face was a picture as Athos hid a smirk behind his hand.

“He won’t tell you but I will,” Athos voice hardened slightly as he went to explain the circumstances surrounding Aramis’s headgear. When he was finished d’Artagnan was near tears.

“This is so not good,” d’Artagnan announced quite seriously as he chewed on his lower lip.

“You didn’t do it out of spite so all’s forgiven, eh?” Aramis tried to cajole a smile out of their youngest because d’Artagnan’s little face was so crestfallen.

“Perhaps Serge can serve up something less sticky for d’Artagnan to eat this time,” Athos suggested as he headed for the door.

“Sounds like a rather good idea to me,” Aramis placed a hand behind d’Artagnan’s back and ushered him out the door.

++++

Porthos had joined them for breakfast while Serge snagged the little one to help him in the kitchen again. The lad had proven quite capable last time in helping the retired Musketeer. Fifteen minutes later found Porthos sniffing the air around him. “What’s that smell?” Porthos inhaled again as did his two friends.

Out of the kitchen came a tearful d’Artagnan knuckling his eyes. “I burnt the bread!” he cried. “This is the worst morning ever!”

“D’Artagnan what is wrong with you lately?” Athos glared at him as the smoke from the kitchen wafted out into the dining area.

“You mean aside from the obvious?” d’Artagnan sniffed.

Serge came out of the kitchen waving a towel in the air to clear away the smoke. Seeing the small child all in tears the older man’s heart melted. “We are not going to let a little thing like burnt bread get the better of us now, eh?”

“We aren’t?” D’Artagnan was surprised Serge was taking this so well.

“Everyone can have a bad start to their day, lad,” Serge smiled kindly at him. “Ya just have to focus on the positive and good things will happen to ya,” with a wink Serge headed back to his kitchen, still waving his white towel as if he were surrendering to an unseen enemy.

“Let us hope our eggs have not congealed while Serge was taking care of the smoke,” Athos shot d’Artagnan an irritated glance.

“Perhaps your sparring practice will go more smoothly than our breakfast has so far,” d’Artagnan mumbled low.

“One can only hope,” Aramus sighed as their morning repast finally arrived.

++++

*Garrison courtyard*

Each of the inseparables sparred with other Musketeers, testing their skills against one another. But when it came time to practice throwing their daggers... none of them hit their targets.

“The weight of my blade feels a might off,” Porthos complained as he tossed the dagger up in the air a few times.

“As does mine,” Aramis nodded in agreement and heard Athos grunting his dismay. “What? Yours feels off balance as well?”

“Yes, it is odd,” Athos stared at the dagger in his hand and then noticed something peculiar. “This is not mine,” he pointed to the handle. “We all have our initials carved into them.” Athos held out his dagger to Porthos, handle first. “I believe this is yours.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Porthos swore softly as he saw his initials on the dagger’s handle.

“Then I guess this belongs to you,” Aramis handed Athos the dagger he had been using. Once Athos called attention to it, he saw that this one wasn't his either.

“My thanks,” Athos nodded still confused as to how the mix up happened. “Porthos, you must be holding Aramis’s dagger then.”

“I never thought to check first,” Porthos said roughly, just as puzzled as the others. Handing Aramis his weapon back Porthos frowned.

“How would we have gotten them so mixed up?” Aramis scratched his head under his hat.

“It’s my fault,” d’Artagnan hung his head, “again it would seem,” he sighed dramatically. “While you three were sparring I was bored. All your daggers were lined up on the bench top so I decided to clean them. Guess I mixed them up when I put them back.”

“You cleaned them?” Athos’s voice rose. “You could have cut yourself or worse!”

“I know how to take care of weapons no matter my size,” d’Artagnan snapped back, getting sorely tired of being reminded of his temporary status. “Plus I liked testing their weight to see how they felt now since my hands are so small.” Ducking his head, d’Artagnan couldn’t look at his friends in the eyes any longer. “It’s been a rough day so far,” he grumbled.

Feeling a large, warm hand on top of his head, d’Artagnan dared to look up into the grinning face of Porthos. “Remember, lad, ya gotta have bad days so you can love the good ones.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” d’Artagnan snorted. “I feel like no one understands me at times. It’s tough being little.”

“It’s even tougher being me,” Porthos winked at the boy.

“I think I’ll go attend the horses in the stable,” d’Artagnan glanced at Athos anxiously. “Is that all right with you?”

“You do know your way around horses,” Athos nodded. “Just be careful none of them trounce on you.”

Marching away, d’Artagnan was heard muttering about feeling the stables were the safest place for him so far.

++++

“Stables*

“At least you don’t talk back,” d’Artagnan crooned to Zad. He missed riding his horse and couldn’t wait until he was bigger again to enjoy the freedom it gave him to feel the wind on his face as they raced away together.

While feeding Zad, d’Artagnan glanced over at Athos’s saddle that was sitting on a post in Roger’s stall. He noticed the cinch looked worn a bit and was surprised that Athos hadn’t attended to it. So with time on his hands d’Artagnan figured he could put his needlework to good use.

The saddle was too heavy for him to lift by himself and he wanted to surprise Athos with his gesture so d’Artagnan went about mending it where it was. Which did make it quite awkward for him, taking longer than it should have to accomplish the task. He forgot how clumsy smaller fingers could be, but when he was done d’Artagnan smiled in satisfaction at his piece of handiwork.

++++

*Back outside in the courtyard*

“D’Artagnan!”Athos called out seeing the boy exit the stables. “Want to go for a short gallop?”

Features lighting up, d’Artagnan nodded happily. “Can I ride Zad?”

“Non! You’re too little for him. I’d fear you would fall off and do yourself an injury.” Entering the stables, Athos went to Roger’s tack and got his horse ready for their ride. When he came back out Athos said, “D’Artagnan you’ll ride in front with me as we have been doing.”

Disappointed by that, d’Artagnan still looked forward to their outing. He did wonder if he should point out that he fixed Athos’s saddle but with the ride uppermost in his mind, let it slip.

Mounting Roger, Athos settled into his saddle and waited for Porthos to boost d’Artagnan up to him. But that’s when things went sideways again. For a small field mouse streaked by Roger which caused the horse to rear up in panic. You pretty much can guess what happened next as the cinch d’Artagnan painstakingly mended pulled apart and sent Athos tumbling off.

Covering his mouth in shock, d’Artagnan immediately ran over to his friend. “Athos, are you hurt?”

Grimacing in pain, Athos was glad that d’Artagnan’s guardian angel was working overtime because if the boy had been on Roger when that happened he shuddered to think of the consequences. “I’d say my pride but let me think on it and get back to you later.”

Aramis and Porthos also were beside their friend getting him back on his feet. With Aramis checking for injuries and Athos batting his hands away.

“It’s unlike you to get unseated so easily, mon ami,” Aramus mused as Athos’s blue eyes locked on his.

“Yeah,” Porthos agreed as he took a look at the saddle. "No wonder. The cinch tore apart.”

“Mon dieu!” Athos exclaimed. “With everything’s that happened to d’Artagnan I completely forgot to repair it.”

“I have a confession to make,” d’Artagnan announced very quietly as he gazed up at Athos. From where he stood it felt like a huge gap was between them. “When I fed Zad I took note that the cinch was worn and mended it myself,” he swallowed hard. “This day is so cursed!” D’Artagnan’s eyes began to water as tears fell.

Exasperated beyond all measure, sore and bruised, Athos wanted to be mad at their youngest, but the child had his heart in the right place. Kneeling down before the boy, Athos lifted d’Artagnan’s quivering chin tilting his small, woebegone face upward. “If you ever find yourself heading into choppy waters just remember you are the captain of your own ship.”

Eyes wide, d’Artagnan stared at Athos thinking perhaps the fall had addled the man’s brains. “What does being knocked on your ass have to do with being a captain of a ship, I ask you?”

Scowling at d’Artagnan’s remark and hearing hoots of laughter from behind, Athos stood up, back stiff. “Apparently pearls of wisdom are wasted on the young,” he snapped as he stomped off to take care of Roger.

“Now he’s on about *pearls*,” d’Artagnan glanced over at Aramis with concern. “I think Athos hurt his head in that falls. He’s talking strangely.”

But Aramis laughed all the harder as did Porthos. Both men were leaning on each other in throes of hilarity.

“Hmmpf!” D’Artagnan thought all his friend’s brains were addled.

“What’s going on, gents?” Captain Treville came over as he watched his lieutenant walking or was that limping toward the stables? “Something happen to Athos?”

“Don’t bother asking those two,” d’Artagnan pointed toward Aramis and Porthos who were laughing like idiots.

“What happened, lad?” Treville watched as the other two Musketeers followed Athos, nearly stumbling over themselves in the process.

Quickly d’Artagnan explained everything, then waited for the axe to fall on his head. But when nothing happened all he could see was sympathy in the older officer’s gaze. “You might as well know the rest, sir.” D’Artagnan divulged his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day to Treville who had lent him a kind ear.

“Son,” Treville placed a gentle hand on the youngster’s trembling shoulder, “anyone who says there is no such thing as a bad day just hasn’t had one yet.”

“You understand then?” d’Artagnan’s eyes gleamed with tears again.

“I’ve had my fair share of extremely horrible bad days, d’Artagnan.” Leaning down he whispered in the child’s ear. “Trust me you do live through them.”

Wiping his face with his sleeve, d’Artagnan smiled up at Treville. He felt much better now... until the captain left his side that is. Seeing a huge rat about to cross the officer’s path d’Artagnan went into action. He knew one bite from that rodent could make one very ill or even cause death. There was no time to shout out a warning to Treville so d’Artagnan ran quickly over and pushed the man out of the rat’s way, only to have the officer land in the horse trough instead.

Sputtering water out of his mouth, wet to the bone, Treville yelled. “D’Artagnan!”

“Sir, there was this huge rat...”

And so that happened (grins).

The End


	9. Gone Fishin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another new day... another disaster (grins).

After the horrible, no good day little d'Artagnan had yesterday he wanted to steer clear of nearly everyone... especially Captain Treville. It was a good thing Masselin had decided to wander off that day or his kitten may have become a casualty as well.

So d'Artagnan and Masselin played with each other inside Athos's rooms. But that soon became boring and he went in search of his friend. When he finally found him, Athos seemed to be reading a book as his mentor casually relaxed in a chair. D'Artagnan thought it would be great amusement to do a sneak attack and crawled on all fours until he maneuvered around the back of Athos's chair. He stood up and squealed in the man's ear just as Masselin jumped on Athos's lap. The two had their timing down to perfection working as one unit.

Startled, Athos jumped out of his chair, hand automatically reaching for his non-existent sword as he whipped his head back and forth looking for the sound which caused him such distress. When he heard giggling and meowing in the background he scowled. "D'Artagnan and Masselin! Front and center this instant!" His gruff voice did nothing to stop the sounds coming from that twosome as he marched directly over to the windowsill where the child and his pet were sitting. 

"You should have seen your face!" d'Artagnan howled while Masselin meowed louder.

It must have been a trick of light, but for a moment Athos could have sworn that the kitten was grinning at him. "After yesterday's disaster you still tempt fate, young one!" He loomed over the duo trying to project a fierce countenance but apparently there wasn't an ounce of self-preservation in either of their little bodies. The boy continued to laugh until tears ran down his cheeks while Masselin curled up beside him, snuggling into the child’s warmth still wearing what appeared to Athos as a smug expression for a cat.

Athos should have known better, even as an adult he and his friends teased d’Artagnan mercilessly about rushing in where angels feared to tread. He even believed Aramis had attended church more regularly than usual praying for d’Artagnan not to get killed on any of their coming assignments.

Scrubbing the tears off his face with a swipe of his sleeve, d’Artagnan tried to act seriously. “I was bored again, Athos,” he put on a playful pout, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought the idea was for us to spend more time with each other.” D’Artagnan wasn’t looking at his friend when he made that comment. Instead he petted his little kitten until Masselin purred contentedly.

Staring at the book he had been reading, which now laid on the floor, Athos realized the child was correct. These last few days should be meaningful for both of them and here he was reading a book on campaign strategies. In his defense he thought about the disastrous day before and wanted to put a little bit of space between himself and d’Artagnan. But he understood where the boy was coming from and held out his hand to him.

Taking it in his own, d’Artagnan grinned. “So what’s on today’s agenda?”

“What do you say to another outing and some fishing?” Athos smiled at the astonished look that d’Artagnan flashed at him.

“I haven’t fished in a long while,” d’Artagnan’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Used to go with pe’re whenever we didn’t need to work the farm.”

“Is that a yes then?”

“Uh huh,” d’Artagnan glanced down at his kitten still dressed in all his finery. “I think I’ll remove Masselin’s uniform. I don’t want it to get messed up.”

“Good idea,” Athos smiled and he too went to change into more casual attire more suitable to sitting on a log with a fishing pole in his hands. When he had dressed to his satisfaction, Athos gathered up the young one and his cat to head out.

Once they left his apartment they headed for the garrison courtyard where the stables were. Athos noticed d’Artagnan’s eyes carefully looking left and right.

“Something wrong?”

“Just don’t want to run into the captain,” d’Artagnan muttered low for fear Treville could hear his words and materialize in front of him.

Laughing outright, Athos placed a calming hand on the boy’s head as they stopped in front of the stables. “I believe the captain is with the king talking over something that needed Treville’s attention. So I believe you are safe for the time being.”

“We going to see if Porthos and Aramis can come?”

“Do you want them too?”

“If they don’t have to go out on a mission and have nothing more pressing to do,” d’Artagnan shrugged.

“We’ll saddle up Roger and head over to Aramis’s apartment next and see if he can come.” So after Athos made sure all of Roger's tack was in place, he lifted d’Artagnan up, putting him on the saddle with Masselin cradled in his small arms. Mounting behind the child, Athos nudged Roger outside.

++++

*Aramis’s apartment*

When they had arrived at Aramis’s, Athos found himself, the boy and the kitten waiting for his friend to make an appearance after he had knocked several times. Nothing happened, so d’Artagnan decided to give the door a resounding kick with his small foot.

“Are you trying to break the door down?” Athos cocked his eyebrow high as he stared down his nose at the little one. Masselin ever at the ready beside the boy, waited to defend d'Artagnan if things got violent.

“Well, where is he?” d’Artagnan snapped.

“Perhaps he has already left for the garrison,” Athos mused.

“Aramis and Porthos were supposed to help you take care of me during this time but then all of you kept being asked on missions so they did say they’d cover for you so that we could have the rest of this week together," d'Artagnan managed to get that all out in one breath. "Maybe Captain Treville called them in.” D’Artagnan glanced down at his kitten who was butting his tiny head against the door.

Athos was about to turn away when he thought he heard a noise coming from inside. Grimacing, he remarked to the youngster, “And perhaps Aramis is recovering from a hangover.” Holding a finger to his lips for d’Artagnan to be quiet, Athos put his hand on the door knob and turned it. To his surprise it wasn’t even locked when it opened easily for him. He, d’Artagnan and Masselin entered the apartment only to stop dead as they took in the forms of Aramis and Porthos lying in a heap on the floor snoring their heads off.

Walking over to his two friends, Athos bent on one knee to lean over Aramis's prone figure first. The closer he got to the man, the scent of strong alcohol nearly overwhelmed him. “Thought I was the one who usually ended up in his cups this way.” He didn’t even bother with Porthos figuring his large friend was in the same state.

“Are they drunk?” d’Artagnan was holding Masselin in his arms and tickling the kitten under its chin. "Usually those two can hold their liquor better than you, Athos."

“Well, whatever their reasons for ending up like this," Athos tsked, "I believe it will be just you, me and your kitten, d’Artagnan,” Athos hoped the two men weren’t going to be needed by Treville today. Otherwise they were in for a harsh reprimand from their commander. Jotting down a note for them to read whenever they sobered up, Athos propped it on the table where either man could easily see it.

“What did you write, Athos?”

“Told them we had gone fishing and where we would be.” With a hand on the lad’s back, Athos guided d’Artagnan back outside.

++++

*Forest just outside of Paris*

This is a beautiful lake, Athos,” d’Artagnan sat companionably beside his friend on a log bordering the edge of the water. Both of them had their fishing poles dangling from their hands waiting for the catch of the day.

“Yes it is,” Athos sighed. “Sometimes I forget this part of Paris exists.” Watching Masselin dancing around the broken tree branches that lined the area he smiled. “I think your kitten has enough to occupy him while we're kept busy.”

“I didn’t enjoy digging up those worms though,” d’Artagnan made a comical face. “Yuck!” He wanted Athos to understand that just in case he had to bait his hook again.

Trying hard not to laugh at the seriousness of that statement, Athos glanced over at his young friend. “Didn’t you do that with your pe’re?”

“Non,” d’Artagnan smiled in fond memory. “Pe’re would bait the hook for me.”

“Fastidious little thing aren’t you?” Athos gave a huff of laughter. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time,” he grinned.

Feeling a slight tug on his line, d’Artagnan stood up. “Oooooh, Athos!” he cried out. “I think I caught one!”

Seeing d’Artagnan’s line tugging fiercely, Athos put his own pole down off to the side and went to stand behind the youngster. But he wasn’t fast enough as whatever had a hold of the fishing line proved stronger than d’Artagnan as the small child was pulled into the lake.

“Athos! Help!” d'Artagnan sputtered as he bobbed along in the water.

“Oh, Mon dieu!” Athos couldn’t believe this was happening. Fully clothed he went into the cold water after the youngster. His heart stopped when he didn’t see the small, brown haired head anywhere on the surface. “D’Artagnan!” he yelled and not getting an answer, dove under the water to try and locate the lad. When he came up for air Athos had an unconscious boy in his arms. Praying for all he was worth that d’Artagnan would be fine, Athos managed to get them both back on dry land.

Placing d’Artagnan on his stomach and turning the boy’s head to the side, Athos pushed on the child's back until d’Artagnan heaved and coughed up a lung full of water he had swallowed. Turning him swiftly around, Athos wiped the straggling hair out of d’Artagnan’s eyes. Masselin even joined them licking the boy’s face and mewling softly.

“I didn’t,” d’Artagnan coughed harshly, “didn’t get my fish.”

Glancing over at where his abandoned pole should have been, Athos managed to find some amusement in their situation. “Neither did I.”

“You’re all wet,” d’Artagnan thought about that for a second, wondering why his friend’s face was dripping with water as well as his clothes. As he tried to sit up, he found himself pulled into a pair of strong arms. Then he remembered what happened as d’Artagnan started shivering from his own wet garments.

“I’m not the only one,” Athos grumbled as he gave thanks to God for looking out for wee lads who get overpowered by fish bigger than they are.

“I so wanted to boast to Porthos and Aramis that I got the big one,” d’Artagnan’s voice became wobbly as tears threatened.

“Eh, what’s this?” Athos flicked an offending teardrop from d’Artagnan’s sad face. “You’re wet enough as it is.”

“Yeah,” d’Artagnan admitted quietly as he glanced around him. “We both lost our fishing poles,” he pouted. “So not good.”

Picking d’Artagnan up, Athos glanced at Masselin. “You wait right here,” he ordered the tiny kitten. Reaching for a blanket out of his saddlebag, Athos tried to dry the boy and himself as best he could until they reached home. 

Settling the youngster on Roger once more, Athos went back for Masselin, who for once obeyed his last command. He placed the kitten into the child’s waiting arms and got up behind d’Artagnan in the saddle. Nudging Roger they headed back toward the garrison where he wanted the lad checked over thoroughly in the infirmary.

++++

*Musketeer garrison - infirmary*

Rubbing a towel through his hair, Athos felt more comfortable now that he was in dry clothes thanks to Doctor Devereaux sending someone back to Athos’s place for a new set of garments. “How’s Charlie?”

“None the worse for wear,” Devereaux smiled. “Children bounce back quite easily from these type of traumas,” he shook his head. “More so than their parents or guardians.” Running his hand lightly through the youngster's damp hair, the doctor glanced at Athos. “I swear this boy’s caused quite a commotion since he has been with us.”

Before Athos could respond to that comment the door burst open and in came his two friends looking none the worse for wear from their previous nights activities.

“We just heard about you and the lad comin’ up hear,” Porthos’s worried gaze immediately locked on d’Artagnan’s small body being examined by Doctor Devereaux.

“Is he all right?” Aramis whispered, fingering the cross he constantly wore around his neck.

“Fear not, gentlemen,” Devereaux announced, “the boy only swallowed a minor portion of the lake,” he laughed. “He saved the rest for us.”

“Honestly,” Porthos growled as he stared down into d’Artagnan’s white face, “you tryin’ to scare us all to death?”

“We went fishing,” d’Artagnan whispered.

“Fishing?” Aramis stared in amazement at Athos. Putting a finger in his ear, he acted like he was shaking something out. “Did I hear the lad right... fishing?”

“Yes,” Athos snapped. “Something you do with a long pole with a worm dangling on the end of the line.” He was annoyed at the question. “Obviously you did not see the note I left for you on your table.”

“We would have asked you both to come along but...” d’Artagnan glanced sideways at the doctor and was afraid to say anything further.

Knowing why the boy didn’t finish what he was about to say, Athos had no such compunction. “You two were drunk as skunks still when we came to your apartment, Aramis,” Athos hissed, quite annoyed at his friend to begin with and far more angrier at Aramis’s teasing about their outing.

Embarrassment flushed his face. Aramis looked over at d’Artagnan and then back at Athos again. “Did the lad see us?”

“What do you think?” Athos snorted in amusement as he heard d’Artagnan’s huff of laughter.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you guys drunk before,” d’Artagnan rolled his eyes and then worried that Doctor Devereaux may have overheard him. But he could see that the man was on the other side of the room attending a few other Musketeers who had come in after them.

“But fishin’?” Porthos was dumbfounded trying to picture Athos using a fishing pole. He never seen anything but weapons in his friend's capable hands.

“How did our young one get drenched?” Aramis had a small smile playing about his lips as he winked at d’Artagnan. Masselin sidled up to him and purred as the kitten wrapped himself around one of Aramis’s legs.

“Well, Charlie, care to answer that?” Athos crossed his arms and waited, throwing the ball into d’Artagnan’s court.

“From an over exuberant fish,” d’Artagnan replied innocently.

Porthos’s booming laughter filled the room.

“It was a heck of a lot stronger than I was,” d’Artagnan explained in self-defense as he pouted again. “Athos had to come in after me and push the water back out I had swallowed.”

Immediately the medic in Aramis came to the fore. “What? You almost drowned?”

“Yeah,” d’Artagnan answered shakily the more he thought about his experience. “I remember going under a few times and that’s all.”

Sitting down beside the boy, Aramis ran his hand through d’Artagnan’s wet locks. “If Porthos and I had been there this might not have happened.”

“I doubt it,” Porthos remarked dryly. “Charlie would have managed to find another way to get into trouble. He always does.”

Hearing the door opening behind them, the three Musketeers turned around to see Captain Treville grimly looking their way. 

“I heard that Charlie decided to become a fish in his time away from us,” Treville gruffly remarked as he walked over to d’Artagnan. “You did it again I see?”

“Not my fault,” d’Artagnan mumbled, “it was the fish that caused all the trouble.”

“Since I can’t scold the fish,” Treville’s amused eyes settled on Athos’s exasperated ones, “I’ll scold your caretaker.”

“Non! Athos saved me!”

“Ah!” Treville shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, eh?”

“Sorry, sir,” d’Artagnan apologized as he jumped off the bed, assuming the good doctor was done with him. Gathering Masselin up in his arms he walked over to Athos. “Think I’ll stick to dry land from now on.”

Masselin meowed in agreement.


	10. Growing Up All Over Again (the Finale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's time for little d'Art to transform.
> 
> ++++
> 
> A nod to Sigmund for her earlier remark to me about Athos and Masselin. You'll know what I mean when you see it (grins).
> 
> ++++

*Next Morning*

No worse for wear from his near drowning exercise, d'Artagnan was up early playing with Masselin. The kitten had other ideas though as it trotted away heading for Athos's bedroom.

++++

Feeling an object pounce on his chest, Athos opened one bleary, blue eye slowly and then the other. He then came nose to nose with Masselin as the kitten had decided that his chest would make the perfect pillow to snuggle down on. Plucking the cat gently by the scruff of its neck he held Masselin up in the air to stare straight into the little kitten's eyes. Tapping it on the nose his lips curled. "I'll just say this once... I am not afraid of you." A soft purring sound assailed his ears at his remark. At least Athos thought it was better than a snort. "And no, you can't sleep in here with me," disgust filled his voice, "especially now that you have awakened me out of a sound sleep." Flopping his head back down on his pillow he yelled out, "D'Artagnan!"

Running into the room, d'Artagnan noticed Athos's scowl directed at Masselin as the kitten jumped off the bed back toward him. The cat curled up near his feet needing to cuddle now that he lost his warm perch.

"Please inform your cat that I am off limits when he feels the need for a nice, comfy pillow," Athos threw off his covers and swung his legs over the bed. Hearing Masselin meow at him he rolled his eyes. 

Understanding dawned on d'Artagnan as he realized what Masselin had gotten up too. Bending down he picked the small kitten up. Tickling it under its chin, he grinned at his friend. "I'll take him outside and visit Serge. Perhaps he'll have a sweet for me and something tasty for Masselin."

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Athos couldn't help but smile at the picture the two small conspirators made. "It better be something nourishing for you, d'Artagnan," he huffed. "And promise me to not get into any mischief until I join you."

Giggling, d'Artagnan tilted his head as he studied the man. "You sound just like my pe're used too," he ducked his head shyly and then swiftly fled the room.

No difference there, Athos felt like d'Artagnan's father most of the time. Hearing those words from the child's lips just confirmed the fact. After he heard the outer door slam shut, Athos shook his head but still wore a smile on his face. There were worse ways to wake up he guessed. If he had a choice between a hangover or the kitten... Masselin won hands down.

++++

*Musketeer courtyard*

Setting down a bowl of warm oatmeal and glass of milk for Charlie and a full bowl of milk for the kitten, Serge smiled approvingly at the twosome. “Where’s Athos?”

“He’ll be here shortly,” d’Artagnan took a sip of his milk, leaving a white filmy mustache above his lip. He stroked Masselin’s back as the kitten’s little pink tongue lapped at his own bowl of milk.

“Hey, runt,” Porthos greeted the young one, ruffling the lad’s hair as he sat down beside him. “Where’s your keeper?”

Grinning at him, d’Artagnan waved his spoon in the air, heedless of the oatmeal dripping off it. “He’s coming.”

“What’s on the menu, Serge?” Porthos waited for the old man’s approach.

“Want pancakes or eggs this sunny mornin’?” Serge grinned. “Ifin’ you want pancakes I can whip you up a large stack now. Eggs may take a bit longer,” he scratched his beard. “My chickens aren’t being exactly cooperative today.” He heard Porthos snicker at that and he scowled at the giant of a Musketeer. “You try bein’ a cook around here and see how far you get, eh?”

“Pancakes sound fine to me,” Porthos grunted as he grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit that sat nearby. Watching d’Artagnan pick at his oatmeal he frowned. “Not hungry?” Then he whispered low. “Or ain’t it any good?”

“No, it’s okay, but suddenly I’ve lost my appetite,” d’Artagnan mumbled.

For his part, Masselin discarded his own bowl of milk, ambling over to d’Artagnan’s side. He tried to lick the child’s face because he somehow sensed the boy wasn’t feeling well as he mewled quietly.

Watching the lad closely, Porthos saw d’Artagnan’s face whiten as the child’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head. “Non!” He lunged for the youngster before he fell off the bench. Picking him up in his sturdy arms, Porthos raced back to Athos’s apartment just as Serge was bringing out his breakfast.

Glancing down at the huge stack of hotcakes on the plate he carried Serge shrugged. Porthos must have been called out on an emergency by Treville he thought. Well he wasn’t one for wasting good food. So sitting down in Porthos’s place, Serge began to eat up.

++++

*Athos’s apartment*

Kicking out at the door since his arms were full of d’Artagnan, Porthos shouted, “Athos, open up!”

Hearing the urgency in his friend’s voice, Athos ran to the door. No sooner had he opened it than Porthos brushed past him carrying a limp d’Artagnan in his arms. “Mon dieu! What has happened?”

“Don’t rightly know,” Porthos’s gruff voice filled the room. “Kid didn’t hardly eat much and then passed out.” Going into d’Artagnan’s temporary room, he carefully placed the boy on the bed.

Placing a caring hand on d’Artagnan’s fevered brow, Athos’s concerned deepened. “Porthos, how many days has it been now since d’Artagnan’s change took place?”

Counting on his fingers, Porthos raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Time’s flown right quickly and I nearly forgot as well,” he glanced at the small figure of his friend. “This would be the seventh day.”

“Martinique didn’t mention that d’Artagnan would become ill like this,” Athos growled, wiping the sweat trickling down the youngster’s face.

Worry making his voice even rougher than usual, Porthos studied Athos’s crease lined face. “Best I get Aramis here in case he’s needed.”

Athos couldn’t respond to his friend as words threatened to choke him. But after Porthos left he found his voice. “D’Artagnan, you’ll be fine soon enough I promise,” he whispered as he passed a hand over the boy’s hair. Masselin then startled him by jumping on the bed, curling around d’Artagnan’s small body and mewling as he nudged a little hand laying lifeless. “That’s right, you guard d’Artagnan.”

Hearing the outer door to his apartment open and close once more, Athos figured Porthos had found Aramis.

Hat in hand, Aramis’s concerned gaze took in the unconscious form of the little boy. “So we just wait for it to happen then?”

By *it* Athos knew what his friend referred too. “I suppose,” he sighed as he continued to run his hand through d’Artagnan’s hair in a soothing motion.

“It might be better if you take off what the lad’s wearin’. No sense them clothes rippin’ to shreds when d’Artagnan changes back.” Porthos sat down beside the bed as did Aramis, both prepared for a long vigil.

“Martinique didn’t say how long it would take did she, Athos?” Aramis kept his eyes trained on the child’s still form, ready to assist if need be.

“Non!” Athos placed his head in his hands. “Please, God! Let nothing go wrong.” Feeling a gentle pressure on his shoulder, Athos looked back to see Aramis’s reassuring face smiling back at him.

“Should I let the captain know?” Porthos asked. “Didn’t think much on it before now.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Aramis agreed. “Perhaps Comte Rochefort would like to be informed as well since he has a liking for our youngster.”

“Yeah,” Porthos grunted as he got back up. “It’ll give me something ta do.”

As the large Musketeer left again, Athos’s eyes focused on d’Artagnan’s slack features. Picking up the small hand in his firm grip, Athos bowed his head in prayer. As he started to ask d’Artagnan’s guardian angels to work overtime in keeping the boy safe, he suddenly felt tiny fingers playing with his hair. Raising his head slightly, worried blue eyes locked onto tired brown ones.

“Stop worrying so, Athos,” d’Artagnan smiled sweetly at his friend. “It’s time.”

“I shall miss seeing you like this,” Athos admitted as he leaned forward to brush a gentle kiss on d’Artagnan’s forehead. “But I miss sparring with the teenage rapscallion that challenges me on a daily basis.”

“News flash,” d’Artagnan grinned tiredly, “he’s coming back.” Closing his eyes again, he went back to sleep. 

Nearly forgetting Porthos’s words, Athos made quick work of getting the boy out of his clothes with Aramis’s help. Shortly after they had finished their task visitors came to call.

It was a silent procession that filed into the bedroom, consisting of Porthos, Captain Treville and Comte Rochefort. Porthos sat back down while the other two men took positions up on different sides of the bed.

“How is he doing?” Treville asked as he gazed at the youngster.

“Still small,” Athos shrugged. “He woke up just before your arrival and then went back to sleep.” He stood up to face them. “I gained the impression that it won’t be long.”

“It’s a bit cramped for space in here,” Aramis remarked offhand. “Why don’t we all go back to the outer rooms and wait there.”

“I grew attached to that imp,” Rochefort admitted as he followed the others out. Athos was the last to leave, taking one last look at the little boy who stole his heart just as the older version had.

“We all have,” Aramis gave them all a sad smile as he glanced back at d’Artagnan.

++++

“Has this time with d’Artagnan helped you deal with the pain of losing Thomas?” Treville asked with sympathy for the man. Knowing how much he had lost in the past.

“Matter of fact it has,” Athos smiled. “The memories of Thomas do not hurt nearly as much as they did.”

“One can only hope this time has healed d’Artagnan’s loss of his father as well,” Aramis offered.

“Eh,” Porthos grunted with a nod toward the bedroom d’Artagnan was in, “think something’s happenin’ in there.”

All five men noticed light filtering out from underneath the bedroom door. It only seemed to last about a minute when they decided to go check on the boy.

As Athos opened the door and peered in, he was greatly relieved to see a fully grown d’Artagnan huddling under the covers.

Opening sleepy brown eyes, d’Artagnan grinned at all of them. “Guess I’m back.” He twisted his body around under all the bed coverings. Feeling slightly chilled he peeked underneath them and saw that he was naked. Blushing, d’Artagnan couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Makes sense I guess,” he muttered to himself as he heard snuffs of laughter from his three friends.

“How do you feel, lad?” Porthos stepped closer to the young man to lay a hand on d’Artagnan’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ummmm, like the old me used too I suppose,” d’Artagnan glanced at Aramis’s anxious gaze. “I feel fine, honest.”

“Where have I heard that one before,” Athos sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on d’Artagnan’s chest. “Did Martinique’s magic help heal the whole in your heart?”

“Qui,” d’Artagnan’s eyes misted as he covered Athos’s hand with his own. “I couldn’t have had a better pe’re than you during this time.”

“Well then Martinique’s exercise has reaped its rewards,” Rochefort put in with a smile at the youngster.

“You’ll be relieved at least to know you won’t be tripping over Charlie anymore, Comte,” d’Artagnan ducked his head shyly.

“Oh I don’t know,” Rochefort grinned wickedly, “I rather liked that ragamuffin and his cat.”

“Cat?” For a moment d’Artagnan seemed puzzled. “Oh yeah, how could I forget Masselin,” he chuckled as the kitten jumped up on the bed, crawling over to him. 

The kitten sniffed at d’Artagnan’s hand and seemed to have come to a decision as Masselin worked his way up d’Artagnan’s chest to rub his cold, little nose against d’Artagnan’s warm one, purring softly as he was contented that this was his owner.

“Seems you still have a Musketeer cat on your hands,” Treville chuckled as the others laughed in amusement.

“This has been an experience I for one will never forget,” d’Artagnan’s eyes shone bright with tears as he cradled the kitten in his arms.

“None of us will, lad,” Porthos’s voice deepened with emotion.

“Least of all me,” Athos added wryly as Aramis joined his side to smile down at their young one.

“We were pretty pathetic as care givers,” Aramis winced as he remembered a few occasions. “You have to admit that, d’Artagnan.”

“Non,” d’Artagnan smiled gratefully at his friends. “You were the best older brothers anyone could have wanted... still are.”

“Enough with the touchy feely emotions, you lot,” Rochefort announced gruffly. “I think the boy needs his rest.” Tipping his hat at d’Artagnan he turned to leave but threw a few words over his shoulder before departing. “You and Masselin are still welcome to stop by my office to see me anytime.”

“Well, well,” Treville was nearly in shock as he watched Rochefort leave. “D’Artagnan, you’ve cast a spell on our comte it would seem.”

“Purely accidental I’m sure,” d’Artagnan laughed at the look of astonishment that crossed his three friend’s faces.

“Son, since you have returned to your proper age we are going to have to come up with a plausible explanation for the queen as to why she never got to meet Charlie’s parents before he left the garrison.” Captain Treville felt this may be the trickiest part to deal with.

“Must we?” Aramis grimaced.

“It was a stipulation if you remember when she let d’Artagnan stay solely with Athos,” Treville pointed out.

“There’s another problem,” Athos stared at the Masselin who was laying beside d’Artagnan, content to let the young man stroke his fur.

“There is?” D’Artagnan thought telling the queen was more than enough for the time being.

“Masselin was Charlie’s kitten.” Athos looked at d’Artagnan willing the boy to understand what he was getting at.

“And Charlie wouldn’t have left him behind,” d’Artagnan spoke quietly as he continued stroking the tiny cat. “I’ve got an idea, I think.”

“We’re all ears, lad,” Porthos leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the bed as he propped his chin on his hands.

“Let’s tell her Captain Treville located Charlie’s parents finally but they were too embarrassed to be seen in the queen’s presence after what happened and wanted to leave right away.” D’Artagnan waited to see if anyone had objections so far and since no one said a word, he continued. “Athos, give Masselin to the queen as a present from Charlie.”

“But, d’Artagnan, he’s yours.” Athos didn’t think their young one would have wanted to part with the kitten.

“I thought that was what you were referring too earlier, Athos,” now d’Artagnan was wondering if he had misunderstood the silent message the man had given him. “Don’t you think it would cause talk that suddenly Charlie’s gone but I’ve got his cat when I was supposed to be away on an assignment this past week and no where around?”

“D’Artagnan’s right,” Aramis nodded his head as he exchanged a sad look with the boy.

“That might ease the queen’s ire some,” Treville knew this wasn’t an easy decision for d’Artagnan to make seeing how close he had become to Masselin.

"I guess we could also say that this was Charlie's way of apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye to her," Athos hoped the queen would take everything at face value and not delve too deeply.

“So then,” d’Artagnan hummed as he held Masselin up to his face. “I’ll miss you but think on it this way, you'll be in the esteem company of the queen and king of France," he laughed as Masselin licked his nose. "You'll be treated more like a prince than a Musketeer cat."

Snorts of laughter filled the room at d’Artagnan’s remark while Masselin purred in contentment as if he understood its fate. It would seem as if it was indeed the kitten's destiny to rule the royal house."

The End


End file.
